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#mary: don't trouble yourself for me
headspace-hotel · 3 months
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Problems like climate change, where solving them requires millions of people to collectively work at hundreds of different solutions at once, are black holes for internal peacefulness because they give you a type of frustration where you alternately become bitter towards yourself or everyone around you. "If only I could work harder to fix the problem!" makes you exhausted, so you must become angry at others: "If only they cared about the problem!"
People who are already working on fixing climate change need to convince more people to work on it. And a popular thing is to share writings that describe how doomed we all are if climate change is not fixed, how terrible everything will be because of climate change, and how quickly all the treasures of our world are being lost.
There is a particular understanding of human behavior that is being accepted here without thinking about it hard enough. Popular news media shows headlines with terrible prophecies, written that way in hopes of getting the attention of otherwise disinterested people, who will then be "motivated" to fix climate change.
The trouble is that fear is no good for motivating thoughtful, patient, steady commitment to solving a problem. Fear is made to cause an organism to avoid things that might harm it. It creates a brief and explosive pulse of action where the organism's energy pours out as it instinctively, thoughtlessly reacts to escape the danger as fast as possible.
It's silly to blame people for avoiding thinking about climate change. The point of an organism responding to stressors is to avoid them. Oftentimes, the only tool people are presented with is personal choices about what products to buy, which inevitably is horribly frustrating and stressful, since a person will frequently be coerced by their situation into buying a certain product, and even if they don't they see others doing it all the time.
Relentless exposure to imminent threats that cannot be escaped causes Trauma, which severely impacts a person's ability to be resilient to stressors.
I think there is definitely a type of trauma associated with being constantly aware of the destruction of the environment and feeling helpless to do anything about it, especially since we as humans have a deep need for contact with other living things and aspects of the natural world, such as trees, water, flowers, and animals—a need that is often totally denied and treated as merely a Want or a hobby meant only for certain people who enjoy particular activities, like Hiking or Gardening.
We need to expand our minds on how this disconnection can hurt a human being. Imagine if a child's need to be loved by their caregivers, a person's need to be loved by their friends and family, was treated as a desire for indulgence or luxury, or a certain use of free time!
Yes, yes, one person has a condition that makes it hard to walk up hills, another doesn't like the bright sunshine, another is allergic to the grass or fungal components of the outdoor world, but WE ARE PART OF THE FAMILY OF ALL LIFE ON EARTH and WE EXIST IN SYMBIOSIS WITH THE ENVIRONMENT WHICH TAKES CARE OF US. Who showed you what beauty was, who taught you to feel peace and relief inside you in the form of a caressing breeze and rustle of leaves, who gave you awe and wonder at seeing the stars or the mountains? Where does every delicious food come from but the soil teeming with creatures? Isn't the most perfectly sweet berry grown from a plant, nurtured by the soil and pollinated by the bugs? Don't you feel delight at seeing a springy carpet of moss, a little mushroom, or a tiny bird? Think of all that the trees give us. Whose breath do you breathe? Whose body frames your home?
The writings of Indigenous writers such as the book by Mary Siisip Genuisz I am reading right now show me that the other life forms are our family. They take care of us and provide for us, and they would miss us if our species disappeared. Isn't that a powerful, healing fact? I think everybody is so enthusiastic about the book Braiding Sweetgrass because it is a worldview that those of us coming from the dominant colonizer culture are straight up ravenous, starving to death for.
Maybe, I think to myself, humans can experience a kind of trauma from being deprived a relationship with their Earth, just as they would experience trauma from being deprived relationships with other humans.
I really believe that it hurts us to be surrounded by concrete instead of soil, to see a majestic tree cut down on a whim without any justice possible, to see wild animals mostly in the form of mangled corpses on the roadside, to have poison sprayed everywhere to kill the insects that life depends on, to hear traffic and lawn mowers and weed whackers instead of birds and flowing water.
We KNOW that this is physically bad for our health, the stifling, polluted, and stressful environments of a civilization that doesn't know the ways of the plants, but I think it's a kind of moral injury too, right? To see a beautiful field turned into a housing development of ugly, big, expensive houses—no thought given to the butterflies and sparrows and quail of the field? To see a big old tree cut down, a pond full of frogs obliterated and turned into a drainage ditch beside a gas station? They aren't just things, they are lives, and while expansion and profit and progress are "necessary," a nice old field of wildflowers or a pond full of frogs are a different kind of necessary. I remember feeling this as a child without words for it—the sheer cruelty of a world that is totally without reverence for the other creatures.
"They own the property, they can cut down the tree" "They bought the land, they can do what they want with it" <but it can also be wrong, and many people know this on some level, even though our culture doesn't provide us with the framework.
Fear could never give people the motivation to fix climate change. Constant fear of what will happen in the future forces a person to protect themselves from the relentless stress by shutting it out entirely or developing apathy.
A fear based argument for fixing climate change either causes a worldview of nature with no bond of kinship at all, based on the physical and practical dependence on Nature as a "resource," or forces people to experience their kinship with Nature only through grief.
Fear tells us that we want to live—it does not tell us WHY to live. If a person tries to live on fear alone, they will eventually find the desire to live burdensome and painful in itself. I see this emerging on a society wide scale in the USA, feeding on influences from the Christian evangelicalism that sees the Earth as something already sullied and worthless, to be thrown away like a dirty tissue, and on the looming monolith of nuclear winter that gave our parents recurring nightmares as children.
If you go to r/collapse on Reddit (don't do that) you will see a whole community of people who cope with the threat of climate change by fantasizing about it, imagining it as a collective punishment for all humanity and a cathartic release from the present painful situation.
We cannot learn to live without seeing the reason for living. We cannot save the Earth without loving it. We cannot heal nature without caring for it. In order to collectively take action against climate change, we must be moved by something other than fear—and that something is love. Not just love of the outdoors as an activity, but love of the Earth as something that loves us.
The dominant Western culture cannot borrow Indigenous land stewardship techniques as though they are just one climate resilience strategy, without being also willing to change its dreadfully impoverished way of viewing human relationships with Nature.
What right have we to think, "Huh, maybe those guys were on to something with the multi-level polyculture systems and controlled burns" while still thinking humans are nothing but a disease on the Earth, and that Earth would be happy to be rid of us? The sustainable ways of using the land practiced traditionally by cultures who have lived in relationship with their ecosystems for many generations work because humans can exist in mutualistic symbiosis with the life forms around them. We care for them. They care for us.
I know for a fact that plants seek relationships with us, and I was taught by them to see how interconnected everything really is, and how I was made to be a caretaker of my ecosystem. I was, a few years ago, just as I describe above. Too scared and pessimistic about the future of nature to bother loving it, and because of this, I could not realize my niche in the ecosystem. It felt for many years like I could do nothing—i believed in climate change, but I felt hopeless, so I put it out of my mind. But when I began to cultivate a love and reverence for the sad, scraggly, beaten-down fragments of Nature around me, everything changed. So much became possible.
I am still learning and exploring, trying to open my mind to ideas totally different than the ones I knew growing up, paying close attention to every plant and learning its ways. And it stuns me to think—some people write about climate change without this process.
The author of the book "The Uninhabitable Earth" (a scary book about how doomed the Earth is because of climate change) says in the beginning of the book that he is not very much of a nature lover. You fool, love is our most powerful evolutionary adaptation!
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cute-sucker · 17 days
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now you knew that rafe was trouble, that wasn't the issue.
 yet you liked the way he always seemed to know what you wanted. the bag you had been looking at for ages? yours. the cute puppy you always had wanted? yours. did you want that small top in every colour of the shade of pink? yours. 
you liked the way he treated you. as if you were his little bunny, and you acted the part, coming to his office for his lunch, his heavy hand on your mini-skirt, and his hot breath fanning over your shoulder. you would beam at him, and he would smile smugly at you. people would sometimes look over to see you, a cute girl in his domineering stance.  
this was the dream life. he got what he wanted, a nice life with a nice girl. you were wife material, no you were dream girl material. you didn't care that he was a bit mean, or that he would get in your face sometimes. no, he was your dream man. 
after all, everything that he did was for you. the last time you had gotten in trouble with him, which ended up in a scuffle at a bar when a guy looked at you for too long. rafe hadn't asked you to change your outfits - some guys would have, after all, you were wearing a skimpy dress that bunched up at your thighs, and boosted your chest - no, rafe had simply told him to fuck off and to get some manners.
then he had told you to go to the car so he would deal with it. he had come back with blood splattered on his white shirt and a bruised hand. you had felt so bad for him, slowly reaching to hold his hand. sometimes he would brush you off at times like this, but instead, he let out a harsh breath, and let you hold his hand. 
when the two of you reached your house, he had parked the truck to a stop, his steely blue eyes searching yours. his hands cupped your chin, and you felt your heart skip a beat, as you desperately gazed into his eyes "y'know 'm doing this for you? being proactive. being your man. it's what you deserve," 
that had scared you, but you willed yourself to be stronger and nodded eagerly. it was what you deserved. 
as a kook, a trust fund baby, you knew you were going to get handed off to some man, some ravenous man that would take your body as your worth. when your father had told you that rafe cameron was going to be that fine man- you had cried for weeks on end before your blind date. 
your friends had told you he was a hottie, sure but one with a cruel facade. he blew past girls like a chain-smoker would to a pack of cigs. he had that frat boy feeling, and he was older. not too old, but enough for you to feel like a kid compared him. and now here the two of you were, tethering on the line of being engaged and you were scared? sometimes you would stand by the edge of the country club's pool to watch him laugh and scour the area for girls. you would always hide before his eyes reached yours.
but now you couldn't reject him. 
so, you forgot about that time. blocked it out. instead, you decided to throw a party with your girls, stems of cherries in your mouth, and a sweet facade laid out for you. your girls were linda and marry anne. you were the hostess, handing out the drinks, and trying to make sure everyone was happy.
finally, when things calmed down, you found yourself lying by the pool while mary anne recounted her story with the pool boy. the sun felt nice on your skin, as you felt yourself relax. 
marry anne giggled, nails sparking in the light, her bikini top itty bitty as she shimmered closer, "i don't know what to think of him. he's so innocent. nothing like the men we have to cater to. i liked it." then she blushed, "what! stop, don't give me that look."  
linda bit the straw of her drink, and shook her head, "you know what, i don't think the men are a drag, i mean c'mon you know she," linda murmured out dainty finger point at you, "she's had her fair share of men. and now rafe! how nice," she swooned fixing her blond curls.  
it was here that the two of them traded a look. a look that was unwelcome.  
you felt your eyebrows furrow, as you wiggled out of your position, and gave both of them a confused look, "what about him?" 
suddenly things went dead silent, as linda let out a sharp giggle, almost uncomfortable. you felt the hairs on your arm stick up, "guys! what about him?" now you were demanding, as marry anne gave you a pointed look, as linda continued to shake out her hair. 
"okay. well i think he's kinda of a dick? like remember that shit he pulled on in new years?"
you shook your head, sighing, "i thought you guys got over that." 
"he got mad at you trying to kiss a guy for new years! he was practically having sex with that disgusting girl down by the bay." linda blurted out, eyes bugging out of her head. you found your arms wrapped around your waist, feeling defensive. 
"well, i was kinda promised to him? y'know. i shouldn't have tried to kiss that anyway," you murmured out softly. at this linda let out a laugh, to which marry anne silenced her. 
"listen honey, i think you should be careful. promised or not. you have freedoms, and rights as a girl," marry anne continued, with a raised eyebrow, "and me for one- i would not be able to handle a man like that-oh-"
a hand snaked behind ur shoulder, and you turned around to face the person a beam on your face. "hey!" you giggled out before realising rafe was there. he was wearing that white shirt that made you go crazy for him, and while you wondered why he was there; he had a strange look on his face.
"mary anne, linda, nice to see ya guys. taking care of my girl? i bet you are." rafe muttered, turning back to look at you. you were practically ready to jump into his arms, a clear pout on your face. it was almost as if he knew that you needed him. 
you sighed, and leaned into him, before whispering something into his ear. "don't wanna be here anymore." 
at this, you saw rafe's eyes flash with anger, before grinning that snarky smile you knew so well. all of a sudden you were straddled on his lap, like a little girl as you played with his rings. he was inspecting lina and mary anne with a look of predators. "so, what are you guys talking about?" 
linda quickly blurted out, "nothing! nothing at all. y'know what, i think anne and i should go. gotta an appointment at 5." mary anne looked close to rolling her eyes, but nodded before getting into more discussion. their smiles looked fake, as they gave you a quick wave, and ran as quick as their heels could take them.
you found yourself lying in rafe's lap, completely tired. he was brushing out the baby hairs out of your face, before softly dropping a kiss on your forehead. you exhaled, wiggling closer to him. he was never like this. so full of love to share. 
"gonna make you mine, all right?" he whispered in your ear, before nipping at your jaw, "gonna give you my kids, a house full of them, and some better friends, bun. you're the sweetest." 
and just like that any thought of leaving him was gone. 
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mochinek0 · 3 months
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In Sickness and in Health
"Damian, I need you to work with the new student on this project." his history teacher stated.
"What new student?" the young Wayne questioned.
'There's no one new here. Has he finally lost it?'
"Stay after class, please." they replied.
Damian simply nodded.
'At least if the new person is all in his head, I can work by myself.'
"The new student isn't here today as she's sick. They're also a transfer student." The teacher spoke, "Here is her address."
"You want me to go there and become ill?" Damian speculated.
"Not at all, Mr. Wayne. All I am asking is that you, at least, speak to her about the project." the teacher sighed, "She'll know better than anyone how long she'll be absent. Get her to write a note saying, I don't know, she gives you full control on the project or something. I'll deal with it from there."
"I can do that." Damian accepted.
'At least I can still work by myself.'
Damian looked down at the address in his hand an then back at the seamstress shop. Confused, the young Wayne entered the store and looked around for someone his own age.
"Can I help you?" asked an elderly lady.
"I was given this address for a classmate of mine." Damian explained, "I believe they mixed it up. Excuse me."
"Are you looking for Marinette?" they questioned.
'Marinette? Is that her name? Not American; he did mention they were a transfer student.'
"Yes." he answered, still unsure.
"Go through the blue curtain in the far back." the lady smiled, "There's a set of stairs that will take you to the apartment above the store."
Damian nodded and went to the back of the store. There was blue cloth hung up on a shower rod that parted slightly.
'A door would be better suited.'
Damian walked up the stairs to the second story and found single door. He raised his hand and knocked on the door. The door opened and he was shocked. There in the doorway was a girl with blue hair, up to his chest. She was wearing what seemed to be pajamas, had a blanket draped over her shoulders, a face mask, and a cooling cloth attached to her forehead.
'She is obviously seriously ill. How did she open the door? Why didn’t anyone else open it for her?'
"Who are you?" she questioned, hoarsely.
"Damian Wayne." he declared, "I was told to talk to you about a history project for school."
She moved away from the door and went stright to the kitchen.
"Sit anywhere you want. I haven't sat in the living room in three days. I'd offer you a beverage, but I don't want to get you sick and asking you to get it yourself, seems rude." the girl spoke.
'Polite; unexpected.'
"What are you doing?" Damian questioned, as he watched her stir a pot.
"Making soup for the week." Marinette answered.
"So, I should not expect you to return this week." he suggested.
"I usually eat soup when I'm sick and for the following days, to keep my immune system cleansed." she explained, "So, history? Leave me the details and I'll work on it."
"Mr. Hayes suggested you could write a note putting me in charge." Damian spoke.
"I can work, Damian." Mari remarked, "I don't need you coddling me because I'm sick."
'Coddle! I-The last thing I would do is….coddle her!'
Damian snapped, "I am giving you a way out! Get your rest and I will do it completely!"
"I'm on bedrest and as you can see, I'm functional." she growled back.
Marinette began to cough heavidly, enough to make her grip the kitchen counter. Damian watched as her breaths became labored, as if she had trouble inhaling.
'She calls this functional?'
Marinette grabbed a mug and poured hot water from a near by kettle. Damian watched as she spooned a small amount of tea leaves into a container and place it in the mug.
'Peppermint? She should try lemon, ginger, something citrus.'
"When are your parents getting back?" Damian asked, not moving from the doorway.
"I'm emancipated." she smiled.
'She's by herself?'
Damian looked around and noticed a small table with one chair. The living room had enough to seat up to three guests. There was also one door to the left, behind the living room.
"Leave the form and an email or something so I can send you my portion." Marinette called out, "If you don't like it, I can work in my room and you can work from out here."
Damian took out a pen and quickly wrote down his email at the top of the paper.
"I'll be back, tomorrow." he stated, leaving the apartment.
'Why is she so stubborn? She needs to rest. The simplest solution would be for her to rest this week while I work alone. What is she trying to accomplish?'
The moment she opened the door, Damian stared at Marinette annoyed. She had showed recently, but her hair was still wet. At the very least, she was wearing different clothes.
He scowled, "Where is the bathroom?"
"Oh, in my room, on your left." Marinette pointed out.
'Guess he really needed to go.'
Damian came back with a towel and threw it over her head, without notice. He quickly began to rub her head to get the moisture out.
"You're going to get worse with you hair looking like a wet mop." Damian stated, "Dry it completely."
Marinette remained silent and still. Damian stopped his movements.
"Marinette?" he asked, moving to face her.
'Shit!'
Marinette's eyes were wide and she was practially hyperventilating. She was clenching and unclenching her hands.
'She does not handle physical contact well. Is she going to be okay at school?'
Damian kneeled in front of her and showed his hands were raised in front of him.
"My apologies." Damian whispered, "I didn't mean to startle you."
Damian reached out and dragged his bag, next to the couch. He pulled out a small cylinder.
"I brought you some tea leaves. Citrus help you recover from illness." he began, "I don't believe peppermint will work." as he handed her the container.
Marinette took it and looked at it. She opened it and sniffed the tea leaves. There was lemon, cinnamon, ginger, and cloves. There was some other stuff she couldn't make out.
"You......made this?" Marinette questioned.
'Why would he give this to me?'
Damian remained silent, but nodded. He didn't think she would noticed he took his time to make her something.
"I make my own teas." he replied.
Mari smiled, "Thank you."
Damian watched as her expression softened. She got up from her seat, letting the towel fall from her head, and quickly began to get things ready to brew the tea. Once it was finished brewing, she took a sip.
"It’s delicious, Damian!" Mari smiled, happily, "Maybe I should go to you for all of my teas."
Before he could respond, Marinette took her tea and went into her room. Damian picked up his things and saw she had gotten comfortable in her bed with her laptop on a tray.
"Were we not working over there?" he questioned.
"I don't want to get you sick." Marinette replied, "Besides, there's only one chair. I'll just email you-"
Damian left the room and returned with the chair from her kitchen table.
"I don't get sick, easily." Damian declared, setting the chair down a few feet from her bed, "h quicker we finish this, the more you can rest."
Marinette worked silently, sipping on the tea Damian had brought her. After an hour, Damian packed up his thing, declaring he'd return the next day.
This time, when Marinette opened the door, he could tell she was moving much more sluggish.
'She got worse! She's pushing herself for me. Damn her stubbornness!'
Damian quickly picked her up in his arms.
"You're-" she began.
"If I get sick, I will blame you later." Damian claimed.
"Sorry." Mari whispered.
Damian placed her back in her bed. He quickly rushed to the bathroom in search of a first aid kit or at least, a thermometer. Once he found it, he brought it back and held it out. Mairnette looked at it, in dissapointment.
"Use it." he demanded.
Marinette shoved it in her mouth and waited. The quick beeping notified them both something was wrong. Mari took it out of her mouth n tried to hide it. Damian was able to grab it with ease.
'102.5'
"I'm fine." Marinette declared.
"You are far from fine." Damian stated.
Damian took the thermometer to the bathroom and washed it, as well as his hands. When he returned, he found Marinette fast asleep. He found a cooling pad near by and placed it on her head. Damian remember a small cloth by the sink and wet it. He quickly cooled off her arms, her neck, and her legs, before covering her up. Damian took out a sticky note and wrote down his number.
Marinette woke up to the room being dark.
"Damian?" she called out.
She grabbed her phone and saw it was close to two in the morning. She set her phone down and felt a paper.
'Sticky note?'
She turned on the flashlight on her phone and looked at the note: Call me if you worsen-Damian.
'Aw. He's really sweet. I feel so bad for falling asleep on him.'
Marinette stood up and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed the thermometer from the medicine cabinet and took her temperature. It read 99.2; it was the best it had been all week. She washed the thermometer and took some medicine. After, she made more of Damian's tea.
'Gonna need it.'
Damian arrived back from patrol to find an email from Mari.
'I thought I told her to call me if she got worse, not email me!'
He opened it in a panic and found it was her completed work for the assignment. Damian looked at the time. It was now three in the morning and she had sent it thirty minutes ago. He grabbed his phone and opened his contacts. Then, he froze.
'I don’t have her number! Fuck!'
Damian went over the next day and was surprised to see her more active. Marinette had answered the door happily and was dressed in white tank top, pink shorts, and slippers. She wasn't even using a blanket to keep herself warm.
"Damian!" She smiled, "Hey, did you get my email?"
"I did." he answered.
"Is everything okay?" Mari asked, "I didn't think I'd see you today."
"Why did you send it so late or early, I should say." Damain questioned.
"It was when I woke up." Marinette answered, "I'm sorry for falling asleep on you. I decided it was best to work on it, while I had a clear head. I'm feeling a lot better, so I should be able to see you at school tomorrow. I'm sure it was all thanks to your tea."
Damian nodded and held out his phone for her to grab. Marinette looked at it confused, but took it.
"I planned on yelling at you, for being up so late, but I didn't have you number." the young Wayne stated.
Marinette giggled, "And I should give it to you, why?"
Damian remained silent. He didn't think she would refuse to give her number to him.
"In case we are paired up again." he quickly spoke.
Mari added her contact information and handed it back.
"Sick Girl?" he questioned.
"So you know it's me." Mari answered.
He hated how right she was. It was likely that if she had entered her name, he would have forgotten it in a week and deleted it.
"Do you want to come in or was that all?" she asked.
"That was all." he said and quickly left.
Marinette closed the door an giggled.
'He's like a stray cat that came to say hi.'
Damian sat in class and kept his eyes on the door. Marinette hadn't walked in, yet, and it was almost time for the bell to ring.
'Is she still sick? Did her fever come back? I should have called her this morning to make sure she was feeling fine.'
The bell rang breaking him from his thoughts and then, she rushed in.
'Marinette.'
"Late." their teacher declared, "I will forgive you, this time, since you have been sick, Miss Duapin-Cheng."
Marinette nodded her head. It was finally time for history class and it was so different to see her in uniform. Damian could admit he more use to seeing her in pajamas or shorts, with her blanket curled around her. He was even use to her falling asleep, but some how the uniform felt less personal. He hated it. Damian watched carefully over Marinette. He had to make sure she was completely better. Her damn stubbornness left him worried about her pretending to feel better for his sake. Then, he saw it; the tense smile on her face. She was surrounded by their peers. It reminded him of the smiles his brothers' gave at parties. Damian walked over and grabbed her wrist.
"We need to talk about the project since you have been absent." he declared.
"Oh, okay." Marinette answered, as he pulled her away from everyone else.
"He could have been nicer."
"It's Wayne. When is he ever nice?"
"Lucky bitch."
"I can’t believe she was his partner."
"He probably did it himself, already."
"Yeah. He's just gonna give her a copy and put her name on it."
"I can’t believe he touched her."
"True."
"Better than him yelling at us to move or scram, again."
Marinette frowned as she heard what they said about Damian. That wasn't the Damian she knew.
"Thank you." Marinette whispered, once they were far enough.
Damian looked at her questioningly.
"For rescuing me." she answered.
"You appeared uncomfortable." the young Wayne spoke, " I was uncertain how you would react if one of them touched you. I understand if I made you uncomfortable, as well. My apologies for forcing you. Next time, tell them to leave."
"I'm not good at dealing with people; not anymore." Mari declared, "Besides, they should forget about me soon. I'm still 'new' in their eyes. I'm not trying to gain anything by talking to them. I don’t want to get to know them."
"I thought you weren't coming." Damian spoke, changing the subject.
"Huh?" she asked, confused, "I told you I was coming today."
"You were late." he growled.
"Oh." Marinette winced, "Uh….I have a feeling I will be in detention a lot."
Damian stopped and turned to her, waiting for an explanation.
"I have always been late to school, even when it was across from my house." she stated.
Damian sighed, "I'll pick you up in the mornings."
"No!" she cried out.
"Why?" he demanded, "Is that an issue? I have been to your place before, have I not?"
"I'm not a morning person." Mari replied, looking down.
He sighed again, "My brother isn't either, unless he has had coffee. I can bring you some." making a mental note to steal Tim's coffee in the morning from now on.
"Really?" Mari questioned, perking up.
"You better, at least, be dressed." Damian retorted.
"Pajamas count as being dressed, right?" she squeaked.
Damian glared at her, "Why would you still be in pajamas?"
"I'm not a morning person!" Marinette glared back, "I work late and-"
"The shop keeps you that busy?" he questioned.
"Oh." Marinette spoke, "No. I help in the shop sometimes, but that's not my job. I do commissions. She asks me to help some times, but she's going to let me use the sewing machine for free until I can buy one."
"How….long do your commissions take?" he sighed.
"Depends who it's for. If it's for my uncle, I tend to work three weeks straight. It also depends on the pay and timeline. If he called me right now and asked for something in six months, I wouldn't worry unless things began to pile up. It could also be one of my aunties."
'What the fuck is with her family? No wonder why she is emancipated! I can't believe they would work her that hard.'
"You're moving into the manor." Damian declared, "I'll even get you a new sewing machine."
"I am not!" she cried out, "I barely know you! All I know is you name and you make tea!"
"At this rate, I'll have to get you dressed and drag you to school!" Damian cried back.
"Who the fuck made you my babysitter?" Marinette shouted.
"Someone should be." he huffed, "You obviously need someone to take care of you. I don’t see why it shouldn't be me!"
Marinette squeaked and turned red. Realizing what he said, so did Damian.
The teacher watched as Damian took Marinette aside to talk. He was well aware that their assignment had been turned in three days ago. He couldn't hear what they were saying, but it was the closest he had ever seen Damian be comfortable around anyone. He also was aware of Marinette's past school and being bullied.
'I knew getting them to talk would be a good thing.'
DAMINETTE TAGLIST: @meme991001 @umbreon-worshipper @stainedglassm @jasmine-the-fox @psychicdelusionwerewolf @vixen-uchiha @mysteriouschar @missmadwoman @kanamexzeroyaoifangirl @dissarraymania @tundra1029 @abrx2002 @mrsjacuinde @ledalasombra @animegirlweeb
TAGLIST: @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus @tigresslily @legodetectivemalsblog
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m1ssunderstanding · 2 months
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Understanding Lennon McCartney Rewatch Part 3.2
The thing is Paul just physically can't say what he feels. It's just an impossibility for him. So if he says reading a negative article about himself “doesn't help” or “it's not good” but it “doesn't get home” I just assume he means ‘It hurts, but I can't think about that too hard or I'll go into a self-hate suicidal spiral again’. 
I always love how Paul says Linda. “Linder is er, nature mad.” 
She!!
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Hearing Paul talk about watching Mary be born makes me wonder if John was there with Sean? Also I wonder if Linda would talk about the experience so glowingly. Probably. She's tough as nails. I had a lovely experience, personally, after the epidural lol
“Dear friend . . . I'm in love with a friend of mine.” This is such a strange and beautiful song. It's a man who has to apologize to his friend for falling in love with someone else. At least, that's my interpretation. What's everyone else's?
I understand why he's so closed off. I do. But when John is going off every five seconds, we're missing half the picture here and it's turning out warped. They really are such a good study of attachment honestly.
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“Nothing will ever break the love we have for each other.” White-knuckling my way through this section with this quote clenched in my fist.
Yoko, talking about John fighting with Paul: any couple will go from swearing to kissing and it's like that. What favors are you doing yourself here, babe? Maybe John's the PR mastermind between the two of them.
I find John's comparison of working with his romantic partner to being ambidextrous very confusing. Does he mean just doing two things at once?
“If I can't have a fight with my best friend, I don't know who I can have a fight with.” -- Intro slutty gender-fluid Wings Paul my beloved -- “Tell me why, why, why do you treat me so bad? So bad? When you're the best friend a man ever had?” I heard on some podcast somewhere. Someone was going on about how forward-thinking the Beatles were to refer to the women in their songs as “friends”. And I was like, nununununu do not give them that credit.
This is just soooo. In this era? 90 minutes in the middle of a recording session?
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John: Sorry, my estranged fiance is calling, gotta take a break. Guitarist: again? Drummer: how estranged can they be if they call every three minutes? Yoko: should we just record the other parts or . . . John: (receiver cradled to his cheek, lovesick grin on his face) Hey, how was Heather's school program? Haha, yeah, I bet she was.
Okay, so you've made up with Paul and now you're done being homophobic? *Cardi b voice* well that's suspicious. 
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The fact that John's asking Paul to play on stage with him in 1972?? Ugh! If it was just about legalities and money and shit I would be genuinely so pissed at Paul for not going. If only because Come Together sounds incredibly lame without his bass and piano. But also for the obvious fix-it reasons. I have to remind myself of how truly awful Klein was. By being the only one to stand firm against him, Paul actually ended up saving them all from a lot of trouble. But gosh would this have been good!
Things normal people say, for sure, for sure.
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Okay in my head it went like this. John calls George and bitches about what an egomaniac Paul is because he won't do anything with him as long as Klein is involved. George gets off the phone and calls Ringo and they make a bet as to how long it is until John decides they should get rid of Klein. 
“Where's your audience, Paul?” “In the theater, Dave.” As he should. The cuntiness is unparalleled. Yeah, maybe people like to see a family friendly eclectic magic pixie sexy hard rock floor show? Ever thought about that, Dave?
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Anyway, he seems genuinely pissed when the interviewer even mentions the other Beatles and he refuses to even admit he still talks to any of them. Why? 
John's just so benevolent and selfless. He's completely straight, of course, but he's always offering to do gay shit. You know. To be nice. 
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I forget that not only was May their literal employee, but she was ten years younger on top of that. And yet, she managed to do so much good in that relationship. I have so much respect for her. 
There's obviously a lot going on behind the scenes that they don't say in interviews. Duh. But I wonder what it is that caused Paul to be so open and happy in this interview where he's asked about the other Beatles compared to before. I wonder if he and John had a really lovely talk, or if he's heard a demo of “I know, I know.” Or maybe it's just he's so reassured that they've got rid of Klein that he feels safe acting open to a reunion on record. Who knows, Yoko. 
So so smart to pair “In My Life” handwritten lyrics with the matching lyrics of “I know I know” playing at the same time. I forget about that connection (“I love you more”) because it's so overshadowed by the “than yesterday” right after. I seriously wonder if John thought he was being so obvious with this one the way he was with HDYS and half hoped people would ask him if it was about Paul and he could make up for the whole thing. Because it's just so heavy-handed. It's beautiful. I love it. I'm sure Paul loved it. But yeah. John's just beating us over the head with the references here. 
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I also wonder (very tentatively!!!) if Paul was maybe a bit more emotionally vulnerable with John than we usually think. I would never think this except for the “you know I nearly broke down and cried” “I'm sorry that I made you cry” and “no more crying!” I don't know. What do we think? 
His little baby smirk. It's so silly and cute. He's being very positive about getting back together, and the interviewer asks if John would initiate that. Just a very coy, “a, well, I couldn't say.” I wonder if at that point if he'd said on live tv that he wanted to get together again if it would've happened. Seems like it might have, but I understand him being scared. 
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Elton John taking pictures like a fan and John: I wanna impound all those photos till I get me green card. What a random idea for a commercial. I love it, obviously, it's hilarious. I wonder who thought of it. 
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This doc is so good at implication. The smirk as “loving in the palm of my hand” plays. That's not a reference to hand jobs, is it? Certainly not talking to someone with beautiful hands?
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Everyone go look up Nineteen Hundred Eighty Five on YouTube. The singing sex is something else, yeah, but I'm always so blown away by the piano part. The fact that he's self taught and doesn't read music and this man will go on to compose symphonies. 
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AITA for telling my wife to be more chill about the name we gave our daughter?
Our daughter is soon going to be 3 years old. I picked her first name, from my culture, and it means a lot to me. My wife agreed to it at the time.
However, sometimes she starts obsessing over things, and right now what she obsesses over is that we made a "Bad Choice" with the name, that it will make our daughter's life SO HARD because no one will know how to spell it and everyone will ask where the name is coming from and thus find out we're a mixed family and ALL the other kids have "normal" names like "Lisa" and "Mary" and we RUINED our daughter's life we made her a pariah, etc. And it's the husband's fault for Insisting on something so dangerous and stupid. And how could she have allowed me to do that she was blinded by how happy I was and how pretty the name was and didn't think it through. And my wife does that on a loop.
And I try to be patient with her and listen to that a couple of rounds, and ask her about her anxieties. But then I also say look, we are not gonna change her name now, are we. And she is like No of course not, and then the loop starts AGAIN. And then I say okay so you are mad at me, and at yourself for not insisting on a "normal" name back then, totally valid, and you are scared about standing out, that's okay, then just express that. And if you think it's such a bad mistake then if we ever have another child we name them something you find "normal", promise. And she protests There is no use talking to you you don't understand that this is a Problem not about my feelings or some future kid but about our daughter's NAME and Right Now it's a Problem it's a Problem it's a Problem it's Bad it's Bad it's Bad
For the record, we live in a small rural area with a reputation of being racist and so far ALL of our neighbours have been chill and the 1 or 2 who had trouble with our kid's name only took like a second to learn it (Five letters. It. Is. Not. That. Hard).
And last night I had enough and was like Okay, obviously this is something we have to work through. But for the sake of our DAUGHTER, I beg you, NEVER say any of this in front of her. She has a right to feel good about herself and proud of her heritage. As far as I am concerned the REAL Problem is that if my wife keeps going like this one day she will say it in front of the kid and scare and upset her about something she should be allowed to feel happy about. And frankly, for my wife's own sake, she should try to take a step back and look at the good instead of the bad because it looks like this is making her sick. And if there ever is trouble we'll deal with it as it comes.
And then my wife snapped at me and said talking to me is USELESS and that I am TA because I don't care about The Problem and I'm not taking her worries seriously enough. And she said this was Toxic Positivity.
AITA?
What are these acronyms?
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stedefxckingbonnet · 7 months
Text
Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader
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Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.
Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing
This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)
Word Count: 5461
You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.
Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.
Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.
But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.
Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.
"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"
How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.
After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.
"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.
You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.
"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.
"Your spot?"
"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.
"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.
"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."
You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.
"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.
"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."
"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."
"You do?"
Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"
You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."
"Exactly."
"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"
Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.
"I suppose."
Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.
Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."
A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"
"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."
Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.
"Goodnight, Izzy."
"Right. Yes. Goodnight."
The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.
"Someone's chipper this morning."
"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."
"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."
"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"
"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."
You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.
"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.
But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.
"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.
"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.
Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."
"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"
Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."
"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."
Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"
"What was what like?"
"Being a part of...that world. His world."
You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."
Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.
But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."
Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."
"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.
"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.
"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.
All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.
"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.
You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."
"So, see you tomorrow, then?"
"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.
⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.
It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.
Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.
Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.
Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.
As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.
The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.
Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.
"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.
"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.
Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.
"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.
"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.
"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.
"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.
"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."
"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.
"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"
Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."
This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.
"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.
"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."
All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.
"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"
Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.
And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.
"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.
"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."
You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.
"You won't hate me?"
Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."
"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."
"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."
You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.
"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.
"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."
"Meant to what?"
"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.
Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."
"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.
"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."
"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."
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glimmerlofsea · 8 days
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Billy Hargrove x Reader
I'M ON YOUR SIDE
Warning : I don't know how to write it but the reader's father is very abusive, so a bit of violent? Kissing part (ehehe) but not too hot.
WC; 2,7k
#TALKISSA; Where Billy is attracted to you, who is a nerd but still maintains your title of popularity because of your intelligence and genius. You don't like the new kid, he always taunts you with your bookishness, until when he wants to irritating you he realizes that your face is puffy.
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You are always the student with the title of 'the smartest' in class, but that doesn't mean that a bunch of girls there can bully you, in fact you have your own interests which actually make you more attractive when all the nerds in school are bullied. You feel bad for them, you try your best to help them.
You're in gym class, your clothes are wet and you're wearing shorts for gym class, because your clothes are wet from sweat—I know it's gross, believe me—you decide to take off your clothes at the gym, luckily that day you were wearing a white tank top.
Because you felt yourself being watched, you looked in a direction that supported your instincts, that's where you saw the new kid who was looking at you with a sly smile, you always hated him, how he acted bossily and all his arrogant attitudes. You fake a smile and throw up your middle finger before going to get your backpack.
You still felt his gaze, but you didn't care, because gym class was the last subject in your class. You decided to take a shower when you got home.
When you get home you get ready to go with your father, mother and brother for a family dinner at a restaurant not far from your house, where your extended family visits Hawkins for the holidays, even though that is a bad choice for enjoying their holiday.
Your father isn't always abusive, maybe there will come a time when he will punish you when you get bad grades, you think it's normal since you don't achieve what he wants, but slowly you feel like it's out of bounds, you push yourself to get greater in your academic achievements.
Because you are the only girl when many of your cousins ​​are boys, you want to prove to them that you are not just a joke as they say. But unfortunately, at dinner, your aunt, your cousin, and even your uncle tried to bring up the topic of you getting bad grades.
You feel uncomfortable but try to smile,
"Let it go, Y/N. And Frank, aren't you pushing your daughter too much? C'mon, man, you know women can't be anything." Your uncle, Tom, said to your father, you looked at your uncle sarcastically, he looks down on women too much, isn't that right? You haven't liked Uncle Tom for a long time, he always looks down on you.
"And Y/N," Tom said then shook his head while chuckling, "What are you actually trying to achieve? Look at John, he's not even trying but is already being targeted by several big CEOs in Atlanta."
John smiled proudly at you who was showing your flat face, oh, John, if he knew how much you wanted to punch him in the face.
"That's what differentiates me from John, Uncle Tom. What I'm trying to achieve is my real effort, not John with zero effort and then proudly showing his fucking smile." You said without the slightest smile, Tom looked surprised by your words, while Aunt Mary clenched her jaw and held her son's chest so he wouldn't get hurt hearing your words.
"Y/N." Your father warned you.
You looked at him, "What? I'm just telling the truth."
"Apologize." Press your father.
You chuckled, "Why am I sorry? I didn't—" Your father who sit right next to you immediately slapped you, a gasp came from many family members including your older brother who initially didn't pay attention, "I didn't raise you to being a disrespectful bitch."
You held your cheeks and looked at your father with your lips quivering, "Do you understand, Y/N Y/L/N?" You hesitate to answer, but you nod slowly, “Yes, Father.”
You tried to hold back your tears, you didn't want to be embarrassed again, especially by your own father,
"Apologize."
You looked at Uncle Tom, Aunt Mary, and John, looking at them in turn, "I am sorry for my impudence."
"You better be, kid." Uncle Tom replied.
The rest of dinner didn't go well, things became tense when you guys saw an atmosphere where your father slapped you, your mother was there, but she really didn't do her job as a mother. All she thinks about is the money from your father's work, she wasn't even there when your first period came.
You are just silent, you feel like no one is on your side, or even support you.
Landon, your brother? He is second to none with John who immediately got the job without looking at his grades.
You hate being yourself who is thought to be incapable of anything and can't be anything. They should clear their minds, aren't even your aunt and mother furious when the men in their family degrade women like that?
You hated your father, but at least he wanted you to be something to be proud of, just to be proud of, not to be raised with the love and sincerity you need.
You spent the whole night crying, your father didn't forget to teach you a lesson, usually he would lock you in the basement all day without food and drink because of your rude words like a child not being taught, but this time it was different, because when you're having a family dinner that night he was quite drunk, he slapped you several times on your cheek. Leaves redness that will last until morning.
Your mother? She went out with her friends with the money your father gave her, Landon just stayed in his room playing games without thinking one bit about his future.
Sometimes you think Uncle Tom was right, why are you doing all this? If in the end you can't achieve anything or can't become anything.
Since that night things got chaos, you kept getting distracted while taking a test.
“Miss Y/L/N.”
You heard a teacher calling you, you turned and caught Mr. Cravil walked towards you, with all the energy you had you tried to smile, your energy was almost drained from crying all night, "Yes?"
"What happened? Several teachers complained that your grades had dropped drastically. And even I, as your homeroom teacher as a Mathematics teacher, was surprised by the change in your grades." Obviously Mr. Cravil when you pay close attention to his words.
You sighed, you knew you messed up, you really had no motivation, “Sorry, Mr. Cravil.”
"No, no, don't apologize. I'm just reflecting this drastic change, you know? You can always tell me at any time."
It wasn't like the teacher's request was lewd, but Mr. Cravil is sincere, he really concerned you, not only you, he really cares about his students.
You weakly smiled, "Thank you, Mr. Cravil."
After that you go to the bathroom.
You look in the mirror, staring blankly at yourself then you wash your face with water, all the make up comes off, the cuts caused by your father starts to show, he really gets maniacally mad when he hears that your grades have dropped. Of course he already knew since he said he had a stalker to monitor developments at your school.
You couldn't hold it in anymore, you shed tears, looked at yourself in the mirror and uncontrollably punched the mirror with your bare hands. You wouldn't have thought that the mirror would crack in one punch from yourself who you feel is getting weaker every day. But you are relieved, even though the blood is dripping from the bones of your hand.
You took a breath and covered your face with your hoodie, then you grabbed your backpack to rush home. Or wherever you felt safe since 'home' doesn't feel safe anymore.
In the corridor you hear some gossip from the girls at school,
"I heard she's pregnant..."
"She's pregnant so her grades have dropped..."
"She's a mess."
You closed your eyes and took your headset from your trouser pocket to not hear the words that haunted your mind, you don't need it, you really don't need it right now.
When you come out of the school corridor, you think it's over, but someone appears in front of you, Billy Hargrove with his trademark smile that makes all the girls crazy but you,
Someone pulls your hoodie that covering your head, you try to control your anger,
You looked at Billy, at first he smiled like a psychopath, but seeing your face which had several cuts made him lose his smile, "Hey, Tommy, hook me up with a fresh cig."
"What? Come on, Billy, I thought we were gonna hassle this girl—"
"Just bounce, dude. Quick." Billy replied.
You still had your locks on Billy, “Fuck off.” You were about to leave but he held your hand, you winced a little when he accidentally touched your bleeding hand bone, Billy, who realized that his hand had traces of blood, immediately lifted your hand, after he saw it, you immediately pulled your hand back and pulled up your hoodie.
"Fuck. Off." Press you once again then leave in front of him.
He really isn't holding you back, why? Because he was trying to understand what happened. What happened? A perfect girl experiences something like that in her life? And oh, how he hated the cuts that dimmed your face.
He always pays attention to you, always, when you flash the biggest smile he's ever seen, when you don't hesitate to defend a nerd who is being bullied by Tommy, or when you smile proudly in class when you get the right answer and get a plus. What he thinks when he sees you is the only light that brings beauty and happiness to this city full of cows.
But when he saw your condition just a few minutes ago? His world seemed to be turning upside down and his brain not too immersed in thinking.
You decide to go to the supermarket to treat your wounds, followed by going anywhere that at least brings you peace.
You return home at night, of course your mother won't be there, she always goes and comes back as she pleases. You thought your father was asleep, but it turned out that when he entered the house he was holding an alcohol bottle in his hand, he slammed it hard, making the glass bounce onto your leg, making your leg scratch and you wince.
Your father grabbed you and dragged you, "You ungrateful child, this is the first and last time i saw you come home at night, understand?! You have to learn, bitch! Don't be a whore as you like!"
"Father, please! It hurts. It's—" You cried, no matter how tight your father's grip was, maybe a few strands of hair would fall out the next day, "Please, I'm not being a whore or even a slut out there."
Your father threw you harshly into your room, "Crap. Have I ever exposed you to lies, Lady? I raised you well so that you wouldn't be like your mother who only knows about money and becomes a prostitute every night!" Your father cupped your chin and held it tightly, making you sob, "But you're no different from her."
You were still struggling with your breath, when your father locked your room you knew it was going to be a hard and bad week.
You leaned yourself on the edge of the mattress and hid your head in the knees of your feet, crying uncontrollably, you hated your life. Why bother living if throughout your life you are not treated as a human being? Not even once in your life.
While you were crying, you heard a sound from your window, you looked at the window and saw Billy appear at your window and enter your room. With you looking towards the door, hopefully your father didn't hear it. You stood up with all your strength, but were still unsteady on your legs, which were injured by scratches from the alcohol bottle.
Billy approaches you,
"What are you doing? Billy, get out." You said frantically as you wiped your face and tucked your hair behind your ear which was sticky to your face from your tears.
“I know this sounds stupid but I'm worried about you, Y/L/N.” You closed your eyes in frustration, this was simply an unwise and downright stupid choice.
"Y/N, tell me what's wrong. You're a complete mess and—"
"Exactly!" You screamed and whispered at the same time, you caught your breath and held back your tears, "Exactly, Billy. I look really messed up and with you here? It's really going to be even more messed up. Please, leave. Before my father realizes you're even here."
Billy touched your cheek without your permission, but his hand was warm, making you relax for a moment because your body had been freezing all day, "Is this because of your father?"
You looked at him and nodded slowly.
"Y/N, who is that? Are you talking to someone!? Fucking brat, I'm going to kill you."
You panicked when you heard your father scream, you let go of Billy's grip and pushed his body slowly towards the window, "Leave. Now."
"But-"
"Oh God, please, Billy!" You said in frustration, you really depended your life on him, "Please,"
Billy had heard the word 'please' a thousand times in his life while fucking girls in Hawkins, but this time? This sounds different. As if a girl's life depended on him.
"Okay..." Billy finally said it, "Just call me? Make sure I know you're okay. I wrote my number in your biology book."
You nodded quickly, feeling panicked because the sound of the door lock had started to beep. When Billy started to go get his profit, your father didn't catch anyone, so you were safe and he didn't leave any scars behind.
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Several weeks have passed, things are still the same but better. Since that night you could say you spent more time with Billy, nothing romantic, but you just touched when Billy said that he would protect you, you were flattered and laughed a little at his stupidity in saying it.
And he always says he will always be beside you, will always dry your tears when they wet your face, and he will even risk his life just to take away the darkness that is in your life. You really wish you could do the opposite for him too.
You both share the same experience, an abusive father and feeling unwanted. But it feels like you need someone like Billy, he's not that bad actually.
And here you are, you are sitting on the hood of Billy's car while he is lying on the hood of his car, believe me, you are the only girl he lets sit on the hood of his car. He feels like you are another part of him, and you are truly like a treasure to be protected, at all times. You sometimes feel that Billy is your real father, not Frank.
You were sucking on the ice cream Billy had bought you moments before, you two were just spending time staring at the stars at night.
Billy woke up from his sleep, and you looking at his direction, you quickly finished your ice cream so you could rest your head on his shoulder. It was silly but Billy secretly loved it when you depended on him.
"I like midnight." You said.
"Yeah?"
You nod.
"Especially when spending it with me, right?" Billy asked with a smile that made you laugh and pull your head from his shoulder.
"Oh, that smile. I really want to keep it in my pocket." Billy said, you smiled, "Then keep it."
"Can I?"
You nodded, "On condition that you buy me another ice cream."
Billy rolled his eyes, "That's your third ice cream, Princess." He always calls you princess since right now you are the most valuable thing he has.
Now you roll your eyes, "There are not enough words for ice cream."
Billy chuckled, "There's something on your lips."
You looked up at him and traced your lips, "Really? Where?"
"Let me wipe it." He replied with a crooked smile.
"Sure-"
Before finishing your words he kissed you right on the lips, hell, what a really nice move. When he felt you didn't reject him he started to deepen the kiss and placed his hand on your thigh while his other hand landed on the back of your neck. You ran your fingers down his chest.
When you broke the kiss you chuckled, “So sneaky.”
Billy smiled and kissed your forehead, “I guess that's my new title, isn't it?” You just roll your eyes.
He got off the hood of the car, then offered his hand for you to reach as you got off the hood, and you gladly accepted, "Let's go back, okay?"
You nod.
With him, all you feel is sincerity and love, what you need most to live are these two things. With him, no one is pressuring you to get good grades, and you really need a 'Billy' figure in your life, at least occasionally in your life. You were happy that night he admitted to your room. And you hope Billy feels otherwise.
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Author Note : I don't know but when I wrote this I was too immersed and became emotional... while listening to the song it was as if I really got into the character... maybe a little out of context from Billy's attitude, but let me play with my own imagination. I hope you guys like it!
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penvisions · 5 months
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garnish {chapter 7}
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Pairing: Chef! Joel Miller x Bartender! Reader
Summary: Reeling from a tense encounter with your professor, your emotions get the best of you. Self-destruction always makes for a good show to coworkers who don't have the whole picture.
Word Count: 4.9k
Warnings: violence, language, threatening behavior, misogynistic behavior, sexist language, threatening ultimatum, abuse of power, academic stress, academic anxiety, degrading talk from male characters, self-destructive behavior, home invasion, attempted break in, description of injuries, blood, injuries in the kitchen, dangers of sharp knives, intense emotions, readers internal monologue gets apathetic, reader has depressive and isolating thoughts, talk of injuries, self-depreciation, secret relationship, work relationship, power dynamics (due to job rankings), sexual content, allusions to sexual content, allusions to past feelings of inadequacy, reader gets in her head about life path, reader is having a tough time ngl, invasion of personal space, restaurant lingo, triggers associated with the food industry, smoking, cigarettes, use of tobacco, childhood trauma, reader reveals parentage issues, abandonment issues, past trauma, major angst
A/N: been struggling with this chapter for real, y'all. but the remainder of this fic is outlines and i'm beyond excited to get down to the nitty gritty with it. hope this feeds you well and happy holidays ♡
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || kofi
“Yes, my brother. He’s been keeping a low profile lately, trying to avoid suspicion that could land him in the hands of the authorities. He’s explained to me that you’re under the impression that he came onto you too strongly for your comfort and decided to submit a police report against him with the help of your boss.”
Surprise colored your features, not expecting this to be the reason why you weren’t being considered for something that would further your academic career, help you to establish yourself in your field of study.
“He put his hands on me in two different situations. He didn’t back off when I verbally told him I wasn’t interested. Then he proceeded to put his hands on me, attacked me outside of my place of work.”
“That’s what he said you would play it off as, but seeing the way that you interact with the gruff boss of yours, playing hard is what seems to be your prerogative.”
“If you want the internship, you need to drop the report. Tell them it was a lover’s spat or something, I’m not really too concerned with how you spin it. But drop it, or I will deny your application and tell my colleagues that while you’re a gifted student, you stir up trouble.”
You watched your phone ring for the umpteenth time. The name of the restaurant popping up, Millie’s name, Joel’s name, Mary’s name. A text from each of them in quick succession.
But you were numb, still seated in the chair across from the desk in the classroom. The sun had set already, the warm lights of the lampposts scattered around the campus the only source. The door still resolutely closed after your professor had left after delivering his two choices for you.
Scrambling as if waking up from a dream, you rushed through the campus and made your way to work.
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“Use your safety words!” You shouted, disguising the rising of your voice at the sharp sting of the knife blade slicing through your skin in the heated words. You watched as the slice from the knife turned white before the cells caught up and blood began to bead, spilling from it quickly. The cutting board became stained, and blood made a sticky webbed pattern of splatter on the blade.
“I said behind, it’s not my fault you didn’t hear me!” The new guy had the audacity to raise his voice back at you. His face contorting into something ugly as he dropped the façade of keeping his cool.
“I would’ve heard you if you did say it!” You snarled as you whipped around, the towel normally kept tucked at your hip wrapped tight around your hand. Blood blossomed through the fabric almost immediately. You brandished it at the man. “This wouldn’t have happened if you had proper etiquette!” 
“Don’t blame me for not knowing what the hell you’re doing!”
You took a step toward him, good hand about to fly out and grip the front of his shirt. But you were stopped by the sound of the office door opening. Joel Miller filled out the doorway completely, his broad shoulders nearly brushing each side and it would be so easy a reach for him to touch the top of it. He glared around the kitchen, eyes hardening when they landed on the sight of you clutching a towel to a bleeding hand.
You had snuck in the day before, after the stressful interaction with your professor. The restaurant had been too busy to steal away any time with him and you were gone before he had been able to step outside of the kitchen. Overwhelmed and on autopilot for most of the night as the words of your professor echoed in your mind. You had texted him a perfunctory message, saying you had a migraine and would see him the next day and then proceeded to call Nia and vent to her over two bottles of wine that had been too sweet for your empty stomach.
You had snuck in today too, knowing he had to make an order before service started. This was your first time seeing him directly in nearly three days.
“What’s with all the hollerin’?” His eyes were hard, the brown of them dark as he took in the scene, the emotion and tension in the air. The sight of you worked up and a snarl pulling up one corner of your lips.
Before you could even open your mouth, the new guy was speaking in a mocking tone.
“Little miss bartender herself, chef.”
“I wouldn’t have if you had used your fucking safety words.” The words were low, vicious as your patience wore thin. You didn’t need this, especially not today. It had been hard enough to get into the headspace for work, let alone show up, and now you’re injured because some asshole thought he didn’t need to let people know where he was at as he moved around the kitchen space.
The already silent kitchen seemed to grow even more quiet at the harsh words that had fallen from your mouth. Taken aback by the breaking of your normally cool and collected demeanor, in face of the attack all those weeks ago, this was the only instance where you showed your raw emotions. Joel had taken a few steps from the doorway and began to make his way toward your station. His feet stilled when you spoke, the way you did so giving him pause. The manner in which the words had fallen from you stoked real worry deep in his chest. You never raised your voice, let alone spit words out in such a heated way.
Save for that one time you ripped him a new one about his inappropriate behavior when you had first started helping out in his kitchen. You were always polite and professional, cordial and jovial with those you were on closer terms with. This….this was foreign and it had warning bells going off in his head immediately. He hadn’t even seen you slink into the kitchen, the last concrete contact he had with you about maybe being late for work.
He was about to say something, to break up the confrontation when the new guy decided to dig his heels in and make an even bigger mess out of the situation. Joel noticed the way you didn’t step back as the younger man’s features morphed into a cocky grin and he took a step closer to you, getting into your personal space.
“You knew I was behind you, sweetie, you always have an eye on me and push that nice ass out toward me. Don’t play dumb. I know you like what you see. Too bad I don’t waste my time on pathetic, easy girls like you.”
The silence in the kitchen was deafening, the tension thick as everyone stopped what they were working on and watched you two stare each other down. It was no secret he hadn’t made any friends in the three weeks he had been here, too full of himself for people to want to talk to him. From the glares being aimed at him now, the feelings of ire flowing from everyone else in the kitchen. Joel felt the nerve in his jaw jump as he accessed the scene alongside everyone. He wanted to step in, but he felt frozen on the spot, his emotions a whirlwind inside of him and his anger making his mind blank out.
“Fuck this.”
His words stung, as much as you wish they didn’t. The entire week taking its toll on you and culminating  into an overwhelming tidal wave that finally crested and made an impact. You felt angry, hot tears prick at your eyes. You hated that they were visible in the fluorescent lights of the kitchen and that everyone could see the shine of them as you felt your face heat up. That Joel could see them when you frantically glanced around the room, trying to keep them at bay.
A smug grin on the man’s face was the last thing you saw before you turned on your heel and walked out the back door. You let it slam behind you as you walked past the dumpsters and the recycling bins lined up along the back of the building and some of fence that lined the back lot for employee parking.
Digging the keys out from underneath your apron, you unhooked them from your belt loop and unlocked your car. You didn’t look back when you heard the door open, just hopped into the driver’s seat and drove off from the restaurant.
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The waiting room was crowded with screaming children and crying babies. An assault on your already overwhelmed senses. At the sight of blood dripping down the length of your arm, a nurse at the front desk hopped up from her chair and tended to you before taking your information and telling you to wait for a room to get stitches. That it would be wait, they were busy. You nodded, taking your injured hand and pride and settled into a vinyl chair with silent tears trailing down your cheeks.
Alone.
Always alone.
Fighting for the smallest things, always fighting, always trying, always pushing yourself.
Seemingly for no reason.
Everyone had someone, waiting with them, waiting for them. But your apartment was empty, your friends at work. No text sent out to let them know what had happened because it would be hours before anyone saw it. Evening, before you would inevitably return to wallow in the confines of your own apartment to nurse your bruised ego and aching heart.
I think I need some space, I’m sorry.
The woosh of the message sending was lost in the sounds of the waiting room. A couple close by, whispering to each other. Looked like the guy had broken his arm, holding it tight to his body. The girl fussing over him in a way you wish someone would pay attention to you. Joel was…he was great. When not at work, when in your own little bubble of connection and creation together. But he was an absent texter, would call and leave messages on your phone during class times, but they were mostly silence followed by a huff before the dial tone.
You weren’t sure what that was about. He had far more going on in his life. A restaurant to run, family in town, family out of town, an old business he kept up with, friends he would see on a semi-regular basis.
But you?
Alone. No family nearby or in general. Nothing but school that seemed to have been a giant mistake to continue. A job field you hadn’t wanted to return to. A man who could only seem to give you half of himself when not at work. Different personal spaces and paces of life, shared moments that always came to an end far too soon only to be swept under the rug when clocked in.
And it hurt, dammit.
He didn’t respond. And you hadn’t expected him to. It was service hours, after all.
It hurt, even as your heart pleaded at you to give him a call and ask him to come sit with you.
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You called the manager as you turned into your apartment complex parking lot. The gate squeaking as it closed behind your truck. The hospital had seen you in three hours, the tirage taking a while despite actively bleeding. But you had shiny new stitches that stretched from the top of your left index finger knuckle to the middle of your palm in a painful way, twelve all in all.
You explained to her that you didn’t want to file any complaints or for workers comp but would need the week off to get stitches and let the injury heal a bit before you handled anything confidently. She agreed to pay you for the missed shifts, not taking it out of your PTO as they hadn’t had any issues with your attendance in the year you had worked there. You thanked her and apologized for any inconvenience once again.
You ignored the sound of a car pulling up along the curb outside the gate, used to random people parking around to get to the concert hall a few blocks away or a visitor for one of the other many apartment buildings lining both sides of the street.
“Just…expect to be taken off of prep. Chef doesn’t take lightly to people who bail, you know that.”
“Heard, see ya in a week.”
You were just out of the shower, having tried to keep your injury out of the spray of the hot water. You had asked them not to wrap it up as you got discharged, telling them you were going to shower the second you got home. They sent home the appropriate dressings and instructions on how to keep it all clean and avoid infection.  You were comfy in a large T-shirt with some hiking graphics on the back of it and a pair of boy shorts, just stepping into your slippers when there was a knock on your door.
You sauntered over to it, tired from the day and a little loopy from the cortisone shot they had given you at the hospital. When you pulled the door open you were greeted by the large figure of Joel. The crown of curls around his head lit up from a light post further down by the curb.
“Wh-why are you here?” You let your shock show in the slight parting of your lips, the heavy exhale at the image of the man you were yearning for displayed right in front of you. As if you had summoned him with thoughts alone.
“You got hurt,” He shuffled on his feet, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck as he looked at the visible stitches on your left hand. His other one held a large paper bag, but you were more focused on the nervous energy he was exhibiting. As if he was worried he wasn’t supposed to be here, knew he wasn’t supposed to be here and hadn’t been able to keep away. You had been holding it close to your chest, not wanting to accidently knock it on anything as you walked around. “Wanted to check on ya.”
“I told you I needed some space.” You moved to begin swinging the door shut but his free hand shot out and stopped the motion easily, thick fingers and wide palm spanning the wood.
“I came to check on you.” He said with a little more force, reminiscent of him being in the kitchen as calling for hands or for dishes right that fucking second. When you didn’t move or say anything he cleared his throat and talked on, softer now. “Brought you some food. Your stomach is prolly turning from havin’ nothing in it when they gave you the shots needed for stitches. I know you might not be hungry or able to eat but it’ll be there for you when you want it.”
“How-“ You found yourself stepping back as he advanced into the doorway and then a few paces into the apartment. The front door opened up directly into the living room, the kitchen just beyond it, separated by a breakfast bar and the small doors that kept the washer and dryer hidden. He set a hefty paper bag on the couch underneath the window beside the door. The scent of greasy Chinese food made your stomach gurgle to life and your mouth water.
“Used to be a contractor, seen my fair share of bad injuries. There was a lot of blood left on the cutting board, just figured.” He looked around over the top of your head and took in the colorful but controlled palette of your belongings before his gaze landed back on you. Reading something in the space you couldn’t quite figure out. “Didn’t get a text from you, but if you really want me to, I’ll leave right this second.”
Your eyes softened, seeing how earnest he was. All you could do was shake your head, heart thudding in your chest at the realization that your text hadn’t been sent. A silent thank you to shitty hospital cell service.
The sound of the door shutting and locking behind him was the beginning of a quiet evening curled up on the couch with him and whispered words of comfort against your temple as his moustache tickled against your skin.
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The shattering of glass was loud, jolting you from your sleeping position curled up in front of Joel, his arms around you and his legs tangled with your own. He was up on his feet in seconds, telling you to stay in the bedroom while he cautiously peered into the small living room. He shuffled on his feet as Sweet Pea came hurling into the room, puffed up as big as she could get, eyes blown out. She jumped atop the bed and you watched Joel’s back disappear in what little light from the street lamps filtered in through your sheer curtains and thick blinds.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Joel was hollering, the bat you had set aside just outside the bedroom door all those weeks ago still there. He grabbed a hold of it and you could hear him swinging, making contact with something metallic. The crack of the wood was loud, making you jump to your feet and you scrambled to get your phone from where it was buried in the sheets.
There was a yelp, followed by the crunching of glass and harsh breathing. The operator was calmly trying to get your attention, hearing the commotion from the other side of the line as you had put it on speaker. The sounds of heavy thuds on the metal stairs outside rattled the walls and your dizzy head. Joel seemed to have followed them, a second set of steps sounding right behind the first.
“Ma’am, are you safe? What’s going on?”
“B-break in, someone broke into my apartment.”
“Is the person still there?”
The line was silent as she waited for an answer, the heavy footsteps of someone coming back up toward the apartment startled you. Hands flailing to catch Sweet Pea as she jumped into your arms. The phone clattered to the hardwood floor.
“Ma’am? Are you still there? Are you okay?”
“My-my boyfriend is-“ You bent down to pick it up, cuddling the small creature close to your chest as she shook in your arms. Joel walked back into the room then, blood smeared on the bat and sporting a gash to his cheek. “He scared them off.”
“Ma’am, I’m sending a police car, what’s your address?”
Joel took over the situation as they arrived, meeting them down at the gate. He walked them through the event, told them the car he had seen the guy rush to and then sped off in. The glimpses of dirty blonde hair underneath a cap, the sound of his voice reminiscent of the one he had protected you from at a bar all that time ago. Of the open investigations you both had over the encounter at his restaurant.
They seemed to take all the crumbs and piece them together, saying it was most likely a stalking situation and you had dropped the mug of tea you had just made at the word. It had been advised that a car were to patrol the street on a more regular basis, but ultimately that you should stay with someone for a while, until things calmed down and your window was repaired.
Hours later, as the sky began to lighten from the deep blue of nightfall to the pastel oranges of early morning, you and Joel found yourself tucked back into bed and curled up with each other. Shielding each other from the rest of the world.
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“You gonna tell me what happened at your meeting?” Joel’s voice was careful as he regarded you across the cab of his own truck. He was driving toward his house just outside the downtown area. A suburb that hadn’t felt the effects of gentrification that had so many others had fallen into. It was quant and cozy, neighbors friendly with each other after living there for so long. A good home for his daughters as he raised one and then adopted the other in their teens, sharing the safe place he had crafted for one daughter with another who had never known such a thing. A kind and caring man, now offering to take care of you in the wake of your personal space feeling tainted.
Sweet pea was in your lap, curled up in your crossed legs, preventing Joel from being able to rest a hand atop your thigh while he drove, both hands firmly on the steering wheel. He had been stealing glances your way since you both loaded up, along with three packed bags. Two for you and one for the small cat, with the promise to get her a little box after dropping her off.
Your demeanor shifted from relaxed and boneless in his passenger seat to rigid, shoulders pulling taught as you sat as straight as you could, lower back aching with the pressure after having sat for so long in cheap, hard waiting room chairs the night before. The hot sensation of embarrassment and shame bubbled up your chest to your throat, preventing words even if you had them.
You shook your head, focused on the world passing by in a blur outside the window.
He seemed to realize it was the wrong moment, to have asked such a thing from you because one of his hands was reaching over and tangling with your own.
“That’s okay, whenever you’re ready, yeah?” He chewed on his bottom lip, coming to a stop at a red light. “Or even not at all, okay, if you don’t want. Whatever you need, baby, I’m gonna try my best, alright?”
You nodded, not able to meet his earnest stare, you both startled when a horn honked behind his truck, urging him to drive through the now green light.
“I’m here for you, you gotta know that. Even if you don’t ask me.” He spoke as he turned into a quiet neighborhood, just outside the bustle of the city. A suburb that reminded you of the one you grew up in, the one you hadn’t been back home to in a decade. Wasn’t welcome back to in wake of family drama and endless fighting.
“Did you know my dad got remarried when I was young?”
“No, darlin’, I didn’t.” He said softly, unaware of why this was what you decided to tell him. But he listened all the same, as he parked in a clear drive and helped you down out of the passenger side of the truck. Making sure that Sweet Pea was cuddled tight to you and safely ushered through the doorway into his home.
“She didn’t like me, the woman my dad had been dating. Said…said I was so smart it was blinding. That I’d never find a man who would want to be with me because I always intimidated people. Too independent, too heavy to attract anyone, too much of all the wrong things.”
You stood in the threshold of the living room, watching as your small cat explored the new space. With a cautious curiosity, as if worried about hidden threats behind every corner. Chirping as she went, looking back at you every few minutes to make sure you hadn’t abandoned her.
“I don’t know who this woman is, but she’s wrong, darlin’. She had no business telling you those things at such a young age.”
“If only she could see me now,” You scoffed as your stitches throbbed underneath thick bandages, pain dulled but breaking through the medicine you needed to take once again. “Got a stalker who won’t leave me alone and a professor who deals in ultimatums.”
The bags he still held dropped to the floor and he was suddenly in front of you, his hands on your shoulders as he gave you all of his attention.
Your eyes met his and the words came tumbling out in a rush.
“I was so stupid to think that she was just spewing bullshit, because she’s right. Smart mouth getting me in trouble, getting me into situations where I’m sleeping with my goddamn boss, barely scraping by for a degree that doesn’t mean anything now. He’s-he’s going to tell the entire board that I’m trouble and they’re both right. I always mess everything up, it’s why I’m alone. Can’t disappoint people who aren’t in your life, right?”
You chuckled wetly, face hot and hands shaking as Joel carefully took them in his own.
“Hey,” Joel’s voice was firm, his eyes focused as he brought you to his chest and held you. “Don’t go saying any of that alright. She’s not right. She don’t know you, what you made of yourself. It doesn’t matter what she thinks, what matters is how you feel.”
“I feel like she’s right, she got my dad to believe her. Haven’t spoken to him since I moved out at eighteen. But not from their house, I had been dumped with my grandparents because she wanted kids of her own and it was either space for me or space for them.
A-and it feels like all the hard work I spent years focusing on is all up to a man who has all the power. The ability to spin this entire situation to his needs and wants, to protect those in his care. Everyone has someone looking out for them, helping them, guiding them. But…but, I don’t…I don’t have anyone…”
Your breathing was slow and deep. Controlled as you calmly spiraled, mania from the past few days winding down into a resolute conclusion of bitter acceptance for the things that have happened and taking the blame for them because there was nowhere else to place it.
“You have me,” Your name was a plea on his lips and all you could do was cling to him as he pulled you into his chest. It was easy to fall into him, but you pulled away just as quickly as you had reached out. For his warmth and reassurance, his kind words that you didn’t deserve. “You have me, okay?”
“You-you’re my boss. And he was right, told me I’m just a messy girl who likes to play hard to get. That’s why he’s going to tell the entire board that I’m unfit for the internship, that I’m trouble to have in class, a risk that shouldn’t be considered. A waste of potential crumbling because I’m too self-righteous and tried to stand up for myself in that bar.”
“Look. No, you look at me and hear me okay.” He grasped your shoulders again and pivoted you from where you had begun to turn your attention away from him, feeling utterly hollowed out and bared for him to see all the ugliness you hid inside the beneath your skin and bones. All laid out for him to pick through like a predator to find the best parts and take take take what he wanted. But it was all rotten, it was all tainted, turned. Bad.
“I will file the appropriate paperwork in both our files, have Mary look it over and sign as a witness, stating that we are in a consensual relationship. That there were no contingencies of promised payment, position, or promotion regarding the development of it. I swear to you, baby, I will do it. To show you that it’s important to me, that you’re important to me. That this isn’t just some fling.”
“I was so close,” Your voice broke, hoarse and tapered off into a sound that didn’t sit right in your ears. It was startling how foreign it sounded. As if the woman speaking was someone else and not yourself, feeling small and childish and helpless as you watched your bags get taken from a car and placed around you by a woman smiling brightly and a man who wouldn’t look directly at you. Spoken words of, ‘this is for the best’.
“I was so close.” The woman repeated, and you felt your knees give as the weight of her words hit you and your vision faded out.
This is for the best.
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dividers by the lovely @/saradika / saradika-graphics
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melanieph321 · 8 months
Text
Ruben Dias x Black Reader - The Bodyguard Part 1/8
Yeah, this is going to be good 🤭🤭 So good!
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Summary - Reader is a popstars in trouble and Ruben is her new bodyguard, here to protect and help her find out who wants to hurt her. But what happens when the relationship between Reader and Ruben simply gets too personal?
Enjoy!
"A bodyguard? For what?"
"Y/N, a person has threatened your life."
"So? People do that online every day. Haters gonna hate."
You fell back against the cuchens of your fifthy thousand euro couch. Sure, it was expensive, but it came straight from the set of Pulp Fiction, a collectors item, worth every penny. Pulp Fiction was your absolute favorite movie of all time.
"I get that you don't want someone following you around all day, especially now with the tour of your knew album, but please consider your own safety first." You're sister had been managing you ever since the beginning of your singing career, of course her natural instict was to worry about you.
"Fine you sighed. So when is this guy coming?"
"Well, we had him fly in from his latest job in the UAE."
"The what know?"
"The UAE, like Dubai? Aapparently even the riches shieks in the middle east wants this guy as their bodyguard. He's an ex navy seal from what I've heard."
"Girl." You chuckled. "I received one threatening phone call from a man who calls himself the Dickonataor 3000. What makes you think I need a navy seal to protect me from that? You should have gotten one of the pumped up dudes from the fitness center I go to to set this guy straight. How much is this bodyguard guy even costing us?"
"Well, he said your only up for trial and that discussions won't happen until the end of that trial period."
"A trial?" You sat up. "You mean to tell me that this guy is only coming around for a trial. To what? See if my life is really worth guarding?"
"Somthing like that, yes. I don't know all the details. Taylor was the one who set everything up."
"Taylor? What does he know about hiring bodyguards?"
"Well he has a decade of experience when it comes to driving spoiled popstars like yourself."
"I'm not spoiled, you're spoiled."
You're sister smiled. "We're both spoiled."
"Mom would be very proud, too bad she rarely flies out to see us?"
"She will be here for your album release party, she promised."
"Yeah, yeah, promises promises, they mean nothing to me."
Your sister stood with her hands behind her back,  watching you. You hated the way she dressed nowadays, in pantsuits, like a damn politician.
"Are you ready to go back to rehearsals?" She asked. You had only gone back to your apartment for a quick break. You had been dancing all day.
"I haven't eaten anything yet." You said.
"We'll pick somthing up on the go, come." She offered you her hand. Just like she when you were kids, wanting to hold your hand on your way to school.
Rehearsals went well, however your feet were killing you by the time you got home. Taylor dropped you off at the apartment whilst your sister still had some business to take care of. You were glad to be alone for a change, having been surrounded by people telling you what to do all day.
"Maria?"
You peaked your head through to the kitchen to see if your personal chef was there. You'd ask her to cook a nice meal, perhaps one of her country's delicacies. You loved Brazilian food.
"Maria?"
She was nowhere to be found. You went to look for her in her office.
"Mari—"
"She's not here."
You froze as a big shadow swept behind you, followed by the dark voice of a man.
"Who are you?" You turned around and gasped. The man stood tall, dressed in a blacksuit and tie. His hair was slicked back, like a business man trying to appear more professional than he was.
"I'm here to kill you." He stated, just like that, with his hands tied before him.
"Um...okay. Taylor!!" You shouted.
"We're twelve stories up sweetheart, he won't hear you."
You frowned, applled by the man and his commanding, yet not threatening demeanor.
"What do you want, I don't keep any money here."
"Yeah, I realized that. However I hacked into your computer in your office."
"Y...you what?"
"It's not very smart of you not to encrypt any of your emails. I've received everything I need about your recent payments, credit card details, enough to forge your identity to make you go bankrupt in a few days time."
Your chest heaved up with your heavy breathing. Who was this guy, an intruder? Why was he so calm? Was he one of those serial killers to have sex with your corps before cutting it to pieces and eat it. Not on your watch, you thought and quickly ran back downstairs.
"Mariaaaaa!" You shouted.
"Like I said, I sent her home."
The man was right at your heals, following you wherever you went.
"What...why?" You said, slightly out of breath and your feet were still sore, so you didn't feel like running.
"Your apartment should be cleared out of staff by 6.pm it's easier to keep track of who goes in and out of the apartment if all your staff have a time stamp on them."
"How did you even get into the building?" You asked. "Did the doorman let you in?"
The man looked at you with tinted eyes, they were intimidating, yet kind. "The doorman has a shift change that occurs with a thirty minute window before the next guy shows up. I simply bid my time, observing your building all day, waiting for the right moment to simply walk into the building and take the elevator up to your floor."
"W.. what do you want?" You were trembling with fear now, ready to scream if the man dared try anything. However he seemed to keep his distance between you, yet it seemed like he was still invading your space.
"Like I said, I'm here to kill you. Or more so simulate how a killer would make the attempt to approach you in your home. From what I've gathered today you're an easy victim Y/N."
"How did you....wait are you...you're him aren't you? The bodyguard?"
The man stood with his hands behind his straight back, neither confirming or denying your statement.
You shook your head, a hint of a smile on your lips. "What a starnge way to introduce yourself and aren't you too young to be a bodyguard. I was expecting some G.I Joe looking mother fuc...."
"I think I'll do guarding a 60 kg girl who doesn't lock her front door when she leaves her home."
"But I know everyone who lives in this building and we have a doorman."
"You'll lock your doors from now on." He said, end of.
You were slightly taken back, mostly by the way he was dominating you, but also by the way you let him dominant you.
"It's my apartment,  I can do whatever I want." You said, a bit unconvincing.
"Not on my watch."
You snorted. "Right."
"Did I say something funny?"
"Yeah, a lot of things actually."
"I'm sorry to have frightened you with my unannounced entry Miss..."
"Y/N, is fine. " You said, crossing your arms over your chest.
"It's just standard protocol for me to ensure that whoever I'm working for is secure beyond my protection so that when it's necessary for me to give my life to them, I'll know it was for the right reason and not some sloppy mistake like an unlocked door or the fact that you let unwanted personal linger past suitable hours."
You're eyes were narrowed as you stared at the man, trying to make sense of it all. You stared at him until the point of realizing that he was actually kind of cute.
"Oh shit, there you are."
The strange introduction came to an end with your sister stumbling through the door.
"Taylor told me that he picked you up from the airport hours ago. I see you've already met my sister." She stepped forward shaking the man's hand.
"Yes we have just made ourselves acquainted, setting some ground rules for this arrangement."
Your sister looked at you, slightly impressed. You on the other hand was not having it at all.
"Y/N, why the long face?" Your sister said. "Meet Ruben Dias, you're new bodyguard."
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gasolineghuleh · 2 months
Note
A dirty-ass prompt: getting down and dirty with Mary Goore in a cemetery 👀
okay so this is what i was trying-- second person, past tense, and timed.
disclaimer; i don't like this one. it didn't turn out how i liked but i'm getting itchy trying to fix it. i feel like i fucked up tenses somewhere, but i'm trying to force myself to try a new tense for me.
creampie mary, weehaw
It was the coldest night of the year when you walked into that shithole dive bar down the road from the Abbey, practically looking for trouble. You were still covered in snow from a freak early-November storm that had caught you on your way out to meet up with your best friend, and you distinctly remember the snow flakes drifting from your shoulders and head to land on the floor of the bar, already melting away. The bartenders eyes met yours in a moment that would have heated the snow off of the sidewalk if you were outside.
It seemed you'd met Trouble.
He was a little taller than you and about thirty shades heavier handed with his eye makeup. His pale arm waved you forward to the bar, gesturing at a seat until you hopped up into it and settled down, giving him a simple drink order. The small talk that he made was comfortable; practiced. He asked what you did and you vaguely mentioned the Abbey, and then asked the same of him, and he replied with the name of the dive bar. The bar's name was stupid, like a joke you'd forgotten the punchline of, or one that the author couldn't bother coming up with, and you found yourself wondering if his name was any better. You almost smiled when he introduced himself as "Mary Goore", your brain already looking for the pun.
Your drink appeared in front of you and he raised his own to meet your glass with a gentle clink. "To Lucifer."
"To Lucifer," you replied, eyebrows shooting up into your brow line. He had some prior knowledge of the Abbey, it seemed... or he was just a tool. You were willing to jump his bones, either way. The two of you sipped your drinks and talked more about the Abbey and how he had been to shows before, that you just must not have noticed him in the crowds of people that congregated in the big cathedral. That, or he had a great knack for making himself invisible.
Eventually he changed the subject, asking you how long you've been a member of the Abbey and how you were liking it, if you felt it was for you or not, what it was like to live on the premises, and before you knew it, the glass you'd been sipping was empty, and he was asking you if you wanted to go for a ride with him. You swirled the dregs of your glass as you thought it over, wrestling with yourself about the safety of the choice-- it was dark and snowing, you were most certainly at least buzzed, and Mary is a new person to you.
Your eyes met his again, a cool green, and he broke into a toothy grin. The laughter lines around his face were prominent, and something behind his eyes was enough for you to agree.
It was Mary.
A small duffle bag was retrieved from somewhere in the back room and the lights were flicked off as Mary yelled at the remaining people at the bar to fuck off out the door; he's locking up for the night. Judging by the way that the patrons move, this wasn't a new experience for them. A few people lightly protested but a death glare from Mary had them hurrying their pace as he slammed the door closed behind them. He took off his black apron, draping it over a stool as he turned to you and clapped his hands together sharply.
"So," he grinned, "you want a ride or what?"
His car was a simple vehicle-- a low sitting two-doored thing, with fuzzy dice hanging from the rearview mirror and several bumper stickers. One of the stickers that had caught your eye said "Hella kids up in this bitch". When you made a comment about it, he had laughed and shrugged with one shoulder, motioning towards his balls.
The Abbey was on the other side of town from the dive bar, but somehow you and Mary arrived at the back doors before you could really process that you'd left. The ride over was filled with quiet ambient music from his stereo, and a rambling introduction from him that left you even more sure of your decision. He parked his car by the back door of the Abbey and turned to face you, slinging one arm over the back of his seat. The graveyard of Emeritus family lineage and the Siblings was visible over his shoulder, the snow on the graves melted from the heat of the nearby greenhouse.
"What?" you asked, your cheeks growing warmer with every second that passes.
"Nothin'," he countered with a shrug, "you're just hot." The smile that spread over his lips was wicked as he waited for your reaction.
"Are you hitting on me, Mary?"
He licked his lower lip with a nod before popping them together loudly, grinning. "Yup."
He didn't say anything more as you exited his vehicle, drumming your fingers along the hood of his car until you made it to his side. Mary's eyes were wide, watching you carefully until you leaned down and opened his car door, extending a hand to him.
"Enough small talk. Come rail me against a gravestone." Mary exhaled a bark of laughter, taking your hand with his left and turning off his car with the right.
You led him through the garden and around a hedge that opened up to reveal the more expensive crypts that dotted the square acreage of the Abbey. This was the most up-front and ridiculously blatant thing you'd ever done... but it was a thrill, wasn't it? His hand was still clasped in yours as you continued through the maze-like layout of the graveyard, passing stones and statues of Papa I and II and a few others you recognized until you arrived at an ornately carved stone angel. It was kneeling at a cross, hands clasped in prayer and face buried in the crook of their arm. You stopped and spun to face Mary, one hand already hiking up your dress.
Mary was grinning again as he pulled you closer to his body, pressing you up against the cool stone of the grave, his hands finally skating along your goose bumped skin. Your arm slid neatly around his shoulders, pulling him closer until his hips were slotted against yours perfectly. When your lips met it was electric, and Mary's shaky moan was enough to melt any remaining nerves you had. The sound of his jeans unzipping and boxers rustling was almost a relief. Your own dress was lifted up to your waist and pushed over your hips with ease.
"How are you gonna--?" He didn't bother answering you. Instead he lifted one of your legs around his hip, taking you by surprise as he hooked it behind him, allowing your foot to rest on his lower back. With his help you wrapped your legs around him as tightly as you could, leaning heavily on the statue behind you as his cock rubbed against the slickness between your lips. Your hand snaked down to grab him and hold him still as he lined up, teasing you for only a moment more before sinking deep into your heat.
"I catch on quick," he growled directly in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.
It wasn't the most comfortable position you'd ever been fucked in, but as Mary picked up a faster pace it felt less and less like the stone of the grave behind you was cutting into your skin and more like the heady mixture of pleasure and adrenaline you craved. His thrusts were rough but even and precise, the slapping sound of his hips against the back of your thighs almost drowned out by your shared heavy breathing. Mary's mouth was hot against your throat as he moaned, teeth sinking in lightly until he stopped at the juncture between your shoulder and neck to suck and bite at your flesh, making you cry out for him. Your body arched as he slammed into you, trying your best to move your hips in time with his to take him in even deeper, desperate for more of that feeling of being filled up.
"You going to cum for me?" he growled, his hands tightening on you where he held you aloft. You gasped in response, your cunt tightening around his cock as a sudden heat washed over you, spreading from your clit and up to the tips of your toes, the only response you could manage as he hit just the right spot over and over. Mary huffed out a breath of pleasure at the way that you tightened up around his dick, your orgasm causing you to involuntarily hold on tighter, nails digging into his skin through his thin shirt. "Cum all over my cock for me, babe. Fuuuck, you feel so fuckin' good."
"Mary--" Your voice was breathy as you felt another wave of your climax crash through you. The cool November night air around you did little to dampen the heat that Mary's body radiated or your own body heat, but it felt good, your sweat covered skin prickling with goosebumps. You managed to lift your head slightly, looking down to where you and Mary were joined. His jeans were open, cock sticking through the hole in the front of his boxers-- in fact, it seemed as though he wasn't even using the full length of his cock, pants bunched as they were.
"Fuckin- cunt, I'm gonna-" Mary cut himself off, mashing his lips against yours with a long and drawn out moan, hips kicking forward in time with the waves of his own climax. His teeth sank into your bottom lip and tugged, his breath coming in ragged pants and growls against you. When you were both sure you were finished, you carefully extricated your legs from their spot on Mary's hips, the two of you watching as he slowly slid out of you, leaving behind a warm trickle that ran down the insides of your thighs-- a hot reminder of your impulse decision. The sight made your face hot, but the look of pleasure on Mary's face when you made eye contact was worth it.
"Thanks for the ride," you said with a laugh, rubbing your hands along your thighs to warm up the muscle again. Mary snorted and dragged his hands across his face before looking at you. He waited for a beat before speaking.
"I haven't done something like that in years."
"I never have." You shrugged noncommittally, but Mary balked. "What? You were hot."
"So I'm your first, then? First one-night?" he corrected himself quickly. When you nodded he laughed again. "Look at you, making moves! But uh... I'm sorry to burst your bubble." Your eyes snapped to his, convincingly apologetic.
"What?"
"I uh.. Wouldn't mind if this wasn't a one night thing." Mary's hand went to the back of his head as he laughed shyly.
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lavender-romancer · 1 year
Text
Crosses on my body
Part Two  Tommy Shelby x Reader 
You were a nun in Dublin but when you decided to take action against those in powerful positions in the church you had to escape. When you turn up in Birmingham and begin a relationship with Tommy Shelby will he be able to protect you from your past? 
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previous part
"Jesus, our Lord. If you're there…why do you hide from me?" You knelt beside your bed with your hands clasped together. "Grant that I never lose sight of the ugliness of sin, the glory of Christ, the beauty of holiness, or the wonder of grace. Help me to seek you every morning with heart, soul, mind, and strength. In Jesus' name. Amen." 
As you climbed into bed you thought over your evenings with Tommy. You had been to the church every evening together for 7 days now. Each time you either taught him how to pray or you would kiss him to see if you would be smited. The more Tommy told you about himself the more you became convinced he was consumed by evil. But evil you could save him from. Tommy said that you had been sent to save him, but you had to find salvation for yourself first. 
You were walking down to the crypt of a church, you assumed this was a dream but they often felt so real it was hard to know. The air was crisp against your skin, making your hair stick up. When you reached the bottom of the stairs you saw some of your sisters. 
"Sister Marianne! It's so good to see you," you exclaimed and she turned around with a horrified look. 
"What did you do!" She screamed. 
"I didn't do anything!" You took a step back and she moved towards you, eyes turning black as she threw you against the wall. Her face twisting into a horrifying amalgamation of darkness and blood. 
"What have you done!" Her voice boomed.
You were suddenly surrounded by a circle of your sisters from Dublin, they were chanting something with their heads bowed moving around you. As you stepped back trying to get away from them you tripped over and saw Father Thomas' bleeding body, his neck slashed. Lying in a pool of his own blood you started screaming and crawled backwards but the faceless nuns pushed you towards him. 
"You thought you could escape didn't you!" He screamed before getting on top of you and choking you. "You have sinned! Repent or you shall suffer in the bowels of hell!"
You could feel the life draining out of you, your eyes fluttering shut, his eyes were crying blood and he had this smile. This bone chilling coolness about this smile that made you terrified to keep your eyes open. No matter how much you struggled you were held down, he was too overpowering- you couldn't fight it. 
Waking up with a scream you began sobbing uncontrollably, holding and rocking yourself back and forth. 
"Lord God, I pray for your protection as I begin this day. You are my hiding place, and under Your wings I can always find refuge. Protect me from trouble wherever I go, and keep evil far from me. Amen." You recited the prayer that you had had to use so many times back in Dublin. So many times having asked the Lord for protection and so many times your prayers had not been fulfilled. How were you to trust in the Lord when he couldn't even protect you in your dreams? But it was all you had. Catholicism had been in your world since you could remember so even if it was all placebo or you were seeing things that weren't there, you needed faith. You had no one else who would care for you the same way, not anymore anyways. Anyone back in Dublin willing to help you was long gone by this time. 
"Do you feel it coming back yet?" Tommy asked as you knelt in front of Mother Mary praying your rosary. "The faith I mean. Or is your crisis over,? 
"I had a nightmare. Last night…about my old life. It looks like God won't even protect me from that regardless of all my confession work. I don't know what to think anymore, but I can't let go." You looked up at Thomas siting on the pew and sighed, still clutching your rosary you stood up and sat next to him. 
"What was the nightmare about?" 
"Things you won't understand, but mostly demon, devil based horror. I feel like something is following me around at all times. Some kind of being with a nefarious purpose." You started biting the skin around your thumbnail. 
"I'm sure I would understand." Tommy said quietly.
"There's things I can't quite trust you with yet. In time I'm sure I will. But revealing my deepest secrets to you would not be wise." You made the sign of the cross with your crucifix and ended your prayer with a few minutes of meditation. 
"You can trust me," Tommy said later when he was walking you back to your lodgings.
"How do I know that?" You asked with your arms crossed. 
"Because I can also reveal a secret to you, I've probably got the longest list in Birmingham. Mutually assured destruction is the best start to companionship." Tommy blew out a cloud of smoke that you watched rise up into the air, dissolved into the night sky. "My mother used to tell me smoke made the stars, possibly to explain why my father smoked the amount he did." 
"Is that your secret?" You asked. 
"Nah, just a story. My secrets are more sinister than that, I know you're hiding something but I can't imagine it's sinister in nature." Tommy seemed to underestimate you entirely which made it all the more entertaining that you held the cards in the conversation.
"I think you think too little of me and my past." You smiled at him.
"Perhaps. But I've known women like you, shrouded in secrecy that I can't quite seem to figure out until it's too late for me." He stopped and leant against a brick wall, looking you up and down with a gaze that penetrated into your mind. 
"Is that what your wife was like?" You weren't sure if the question was too personal for him to answer. 
"She was deception based from the start, but one way or another we fell for each other." Tommy looked glassy eyed, you couldn't picture this being the type of man who would cry but honesty would catch anyone off guard. 
"I'm sure I'll reveal my secrets to you, someday. But not now." You carried on walking past Tommy and he ran his tongue across his bottom lip before walking after you. 
"But truth will set you free, as you've probably said before to some lost soul" Tommy joked and you smiled. 
"That's true. But some secrets can put you in harm's way and…I don't trust anyone truly. Life's safer that way." Your expression was subtly sad but Tommy noticed. 
"I only trust my family and even then there's some exceptions. Having no allies isn't the way to go." Tommy stopped and he stood closer to you. 
"Are you proposing an allyship?" You whispered looking up into his eyes. 
"Perhaps. You light my cigarette, I'll light yours and so on."  Tommy held out a cigarette and placed it between your lips, a confusing look on his face before he used his hand to shield the air and lit it.  
"That's sounding horrendously suggestive, Mr Shelby." You breathed smoke up into the air, still uncertain on what the lack of distance between the two of you meant. 
"Does the suggestiveness scare you?' Tommy asked in a low raspy voice. 
"You don't know anything about my inclination for suggestiveness." You smiled and turned on your heel. "I'll see you tomorrow, Thomas." 
Tommy watched as you faded into the darkness, just as secretively as you had arrived. 
The following morning you woke to an insistent knocking at your front door, it woke you up with a start (memories flooding back of the early mornings at the convent). You approached the door cautiously, holding a knife out in front of you.
"Who's there?" you called out.
"It's your landlady," the slightly familiar voice called. "I'm sorry miss, there's a woman here insistent on seeing you." It felt like the blood had drained from your face at the possibility of it being someone from Dublin.
"W-what does she want? What does it entail?" your voice was panicked and stuttering.
"Have I done wrong, miss? She said you would know her, a Theresa O'Sullivan." The landlady's words echoed in your mind and your eyes began to water, you put down the knife and unlocked the door.
"I'm sorry," You told her. "I was anxious about who the visitor was but you can send her up." You smiled at her and she nodded.
The following knock at your door was timid, so as to not disturb but alert you of their presence. You almost jumped up as your eyes began to water before flinging open the door and enveloping her in a hug.
"Theresa!" you laughed as she held you close.
"It's been so long my dear friend," She said close to your ear.
"How have you been? How's life out of the community, whereabouts are you these days?" You asked as you sat down with her and a pot of tea.
"I'm in the south at the moment, I'm married now and we run a church community now," she paused. "I heard noises. The community is small but we have connections in Ireland so... there are little bubbles of noise every now and then." she paused in a seemingly uncomfortable way.
"I mean, I can assume what they said but what did you hear?" You asked timidly.
"That there was a murder," she paused and looked down at her hands which began to shake. "And... and that there were things that were stolen I'm not sure what. But then I heard whispers about you and I knew I had to find you."
"And you think it's me?" you asked.
"I know you had ideas, I haven't told anyone if you're worried about that I just needed to know you were safe." She reached out and touched your hands. "Y/n, are you safe."
"As safe as you can be after you've done what I have. Tell me about everything, please. Take my mind off it." you squeezed her hands with a smile.
"I have a husband, I met him about three years after leaving Ireland and we've been blessed with three children so far. It's a quiet village with a town hall and a church, not much else, I can see you've taken well to a busy city though." She smiled and you nodded.
"I needed a change, anyway I could so I found a job first and this was the easiest one with the least questions involved. I'm so glad you're safe, I never heard from you and I was so worried." You reached forward and touched her face "But you're here and you're alive."
"We both made it out, remember that. We're both safer now. Don't look back, don't look away just move forward and escape as far as you can." Her eyes began to water. "Because if they come for you, you're dead and no one can protect you or save you from them."
"What do you mean?" your heartbeat began picking up.
"They came for me when I was in Liverpool, I had no one and nothing. No one helped me because I didn't know who to trust but then I revealed too much at confession and they came for me." she paused, her breath faltering and hitching.
"Theresa, what happened?" You said sternly gripping her hand.
"They did this," She pulled up her dress and showed a deep scar on her right leg then pulled up her shirt and showed a long scar from the top of her ribcage diagonally down towards her navel. It was dark and twisted near the bottom.
"Who?" Your hands began to shake as Theresa pulled down her shirt.
"Father Thomas' messengers, they assumed I'd escaped revealing their secrets but I just wanted to escape so they tortured me before I escaped once more," She smiled. "I'm glad you killed the bastard when you had the chance."
"What they did to you... should I be running further?" you asked, feeling your throat tighten.
"There's nowhere you can run that's far enough to outrun them. We are some of the only survivors of their horrific system and I hope you tear it all down." She reached over and hugged you tighter than before.
"We are united, you and I. In sickness and in health like a fucking marriage alright. I will make sure everyone knows what we witnessed and they won't escape it. None of them." You held her by the shoulders and smiled through your tears.
"Say a prayer with me, for strength." Theresa smiled at you and you both began in silent prayer to save each other from your past and your enemies.
next part Peaky blinders taglist: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315
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arcadekitten · 11 hours
Note
hey again I just saw your recent twitter post about you saying that your games are small communities and when I saw that comment, I was worried if you are going to stop doing your work for visual novels and RPG games because you sounded sad about it and I did too. I hope your not sad about your games becoming small communities because I think your games look great and you should keep improving yourself and your games will soon become big communities in the future.
Haha awww no! ♡ That's not what I was trying to say at all!
Let me try to explain it better so it's easier to understand. (The tweet(s) in question below)
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When I said this I was NOT implying that I was upset my game's communities were small as opposed to being big. What I was saying is that if people like one small game of mine, they'll have little luck in trying to "fandomize" it and that if they want to be part of a fandom then they'll have better luck playing my other games and exploring the universe I've been creating.
The thing about my small games is that people fixate on them (I'm very flattered) but if you want to engage with them through the lens of "fandom" there's not much you can do. My smaller games involve fewer characters, shorter storylines, more limited environments, often lesser hints of lore, etc.
Bigger games of mine (like Cemetery Mary and Blackout Hospital) are easier to "fandomize" because they have more characters, bigger environments, more lore exploration, longer storylines, etc.
But even if you're not someone who wants to play my bigger games even though i highly implore you to! You will have more fun in a "fandom" space one you play more of my smaller games because they are all woven together in little ways.
For example, someone who came from INMIMB might have trouble trying to engage with it in a fandom-style way. The game only has 2 main characters and a vague storyline that ends left for interpretation. But if they play my other smaller games, they will be able to make connections and learn more about these characters.
If they play Crowscare or Tricks N Treats, they will learn that Embry has 2 main friends they're often featured together with and the relationships they share. And then once they play something like Crowscare, they'll be introduced to Rune. And they'll see more of Rune in his role in Blackout Hospital. Also in Crowscare they will hear of a character Ms. B, and then if they play Here For Sweethearts they will get to meet this character and get an idea of what she looks like, etc.
I don't have any plans to stop making short/small games! In fact I have a bunch of ideas lined up of ones I'd like to make and plan to work on (while also working on my bigger projects at the same time)!
All I was trying to say is that if someone likes one of my small games, they'd probably have more fun and feel more satisfied engaging in my work by playing more of my work. You would have hours of content and multiple characters and relationships to engage with--rather than struggling to create a fandom for one short game that takes only an hour to play and usually wraps itself up by the end of it.
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dilucsflame33 · 2 years
Text
Darkest Desires 🔥
137. "You like that, don't ya?"
139. "Dang, that mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble."
140. "If you're good, I'll let you play with my sias."
143. "You're wearing too much."
144. "You know what I want."
Welcome back, everyone! This is a special request from the Queen herself ;) @turtle-babe83
She requested Kink or Treat: Bloody Mary, Raphael style! She gave me the masters choice, so I have delivered. I hope you love this, Hon! Hopefully I didn't go overboard. 😅
🔞 Warning 🔞 NFSW 18+
Use of weapon, bondage, tentacle play, dacryphilia, overstimulation, body worship, praise kink, double penetration, Daddy kink, and feral Raphael.
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"I-Is that all you've got, big guy?"
Raphael can't help but laugh as he hears your stutter, moans and whimpers come out of your lips as black mist like tentacles took hold of your body and used you for its own pleasure.
Goodness, you look so delectable.
Raphael took hold of your cheeks in his hand; your cheeks squished and lips turned into a pout, his eyes gleamed with pride knowing he was the one who gave you such bliss. A chuckle left him.
"Dang," he says as he watched as you orgasmed for the third time that night. "That mouth of yours is gonna get yourself in trouble."
He leaned in as he watched tears of pleasure run down your cheeks, making the turtle groan. "I wanna see you break, princess, and I'm not stopping until I say so."
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Raph groaned as he woke up from his coma. His emerald eyes scanned the place as his eyes widened. He was sitting on the ground, chained to a metal pole as he looked down. At least his weapons are still there.
Where was he? He was with the others, then he was knocked unconscious.
The flooring and the roof are made out of wood; the shelving has really spooky intricacies that make it look like you're in some Resident Evil video game. Jars and other containers are filling the shelves and some with century old books. Some books look like they have seen better days. In the middle of the room was a black cauldron. Judging by the smoke illuminated from inside, someone must have recently been here. There was a window that was close to the door, the moon shining full in the night sky.
When he turned to his right he jumped when a black crow was sitting next to him, staring into his soul and making the brute feel uneasy.
Raph inclined his head as he tries to calm his racing heart.
Okay, Raphael, this is the plan. You're strong enough to break these chains. If you could break a concrete boulder, you can break through metal and iron. He thought to himself as he readied for breaking the chains.
"I wouldn't try that, if I were you."
Raph jerked out of his thoughts as a woman came into view from behind him. The woman was gorgeous. Dark, raven hair was in beautiful curls as she pulled her hood back. Her celestial blue eyes shine through the darkness as her red velvet dress swayed with her movements. Her heels clanked against the hardwood floor as she picked up a lantern from the table that was behind him to his left.
His green eyes held furrying rage as he stared down at the woman, who placed the lantern on top of the pedestal in front of the cauldron. "Who are you? And what do you want from me?"
"Oh, feisty. I always love men like you. I bet your soul is tasty as you look." The woman smiled wickedly. Her red lipstick makes her all the more gorgeous, yet eerie. Her voice is silky smooth and aged like fine wine.
Raph felt uncomfortable with her sentence. The only woman he preferred was Y/N. "Sorry, lady, but I'm not interested." Was his reply as he adjusted his posture. "And I don't appreciate you chaining me up either. So, we can either do this the easy way. Or, my vote, the hard way."
The woman laughed as her palm clutched her chest. "Oh, darling, you crack me up. The name is Olivia. Try to break those chains, I dare you."
Raph huffed as he yanked his arms, but the chains didn't break. Nor the metal pole that was attached to the wooden ceiling. His eyes widened in panic.
"Fascinating, is it not? Just a simple spell to keep the bonds and pole intact while you struggle for your life." She smiled as she went to the shelves, her finger pointing through the book titles. Her smile widened when she pulled one as she looked through the contents. "Perfect."
Raph watched her as his stomach felt queasy, his breathing rapid. It was like that time when he jumped off the plane a year ago. Panic and fear filled his being. What was she going to do to him? She was literally human!
Olivia hums as she reads whatever was in the book, turning page after page until her eyes widened with mischief.
"Tell me, Raphael, do you believe in demons?"
"I mean, I'm a walking-talking turtle. What else should I need to know?" Raph glared as his fist clenched.
"Oh, you will learn a lot more when you've become one yourself, my dear Raphael."
Then black smoke started to form from within the cauldron, making the turtle try to go backwards but couldn't when his shell hit the metal pole. He's trapped and can't do anything about it. He couldn't stand it. He doesn't like being held down, much less by a crazy witch who's gonna turn him into a demon.
Olivia started chanting a ritual as more of the black mist started to cover his being. He hissed as the burning sensation trickled from his legs to his thighs. Then his abdomen and his chest. When the mist fully covered him his body felt hot, almost like he needed to jump into some cold water. Soon his breathing picked up and growls came out of his throat as his hips jerked, his lower regions becoming all the more painful. Just when he let out growls and churrs, the lantern that was on the pedestal broke into pieces. Glass and metal scattered on to the floor as the woman had a shocked looking face. "My word!"
"W-What have you done to me?" His voice was rough and husky as his emerald eyes glowed from within the darkness.
"Just turned you into a demon. If you want to get technical, an incubus." She smirked as she closed the book. "Now, I feel like there's someone in your life. Someone who can fulfill all your fantasies. So, why not go ahead and take advantage of the new powers I have gifted to you?"
With that she snapped her fingers and the chains broke off from his wrists; the sound of metal hitting the floor and Raph reached for her, but Olivia waved her hand as he was flown from the room and out of the abandoned warehouse.
Olivia laughed as she watched him leave.
"Have fun, Raphael."
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Y/N was sound asleep when she heard a noise from her room. Jerked awake, she looked around. There was nothing out of the ordinary and she sighed, shaking her head as she laid back onto her pillow.
Few minutes passed and she was about to go back to dreamland, until she felt hand touch her ankle and she jerked awake again. Turning on the lamp from her bedside table, there was nothing there yet she could feel eyes on her. Like someone was watching her.
Getting up from her bed she opened her bedroom door, looked around, and saw nothing. She waltzed towards her window, looked outside and saw nothing. Making sure she locked both the door and window.
She got into bed, turned off the light and covered herself. Whatever it was, it's gone now. Or she hoped it was.
Her phone rang and she groaned, turning onto her side and grabbed her phone. It was Leo. She answered it with a tired, "Hello?"
"Y/N, I apologize for waking you up but we have a problem." Leo's voice was serious, almost panicked as he spoke. "We can't find Raphael and it's been over an hour since we've last separated."
That woke her up as she sat up from her bed, back against the headboard. She checked her clock and it was after one in the morning. "What happened?"
"I don't know. We were doing our nightly rounds and we got separated. I thought he was with us, then when I turned around he was gone. Like he just disappeared out of thin air!"
"What's bad was I saw him next to me!" Mikey's voice came through the phone, probably having her on speaker. "But his expression doesn't look right, man! It's so creepy. Like his eyes weren't green, almost hollowed out and doesn't have eyes!"
"And his skin was darker than usual," Donnie commented. "It was like our brains were manipulated into seeing something that wasn't entirely there! Like a projection."
Y/N started to get weirded out. Not only did her beloved boyfriend disappear but also the guys were experiencing something out of the norm. Even if they are mutants, whatever they are seeing was something paranormal all together.
"And this only happened tonight, right?" She asked, the others affirmed with 'yes'. The woman rubbed her eyes as she could have sworn she saw something from the corner of her eye. "Okay. Retrace your steps: go to the place where you thought Raph looked normal and try to find anything that was left behind. Whoever took Raph has to be another mutant, right?"
"Hold on, Y/N, what kind of address did you give us?"
"Huh?" The woman was confused. She didn't mention any type of address and she was about to speak when Leo interrupted.
"I don't know what kind of address you gave us, but hopefully it'll give us some leads. We'll update you if we find anything." With that, Leo hung up.
Y/N was gonna call them back when her phone was thrown across the room, making the woman gasp as she climbed to the middle of her bed. She could hear the floors creak as she stared into the darkness but couldn't make out anything.
Then green emerald eyes glowed as she gasped inaudibly. His tall, broad stature was completely black as their eyes met. Y/N wanted to speak but nothing would come out, completely terrified as the figure's eyes stared her down.
"Y/N." His voice spoke, and it made your heart jump, felt like it's coming out of your throat. "Don't be afraid. It's me."
With a gulp of confidence - and saliva - she slowly eased off from the bed and walked towards the figure, still feeling uneasy. The woman never believed in the paranormal, yet she never believed in mutated turtles until she met one. Or never thought she will fall in love with one either.
Standing in front of the light where the window casted, she stood in front of the figure. Taking slow deep breaths, she said, "W-Who are you? And why are you in my house?"
The figure stepped back and raised its hands in surrender. "Woah, there, tiger. I'm not allowed to come see ya?" His voice teased, she could have sworn she saw him smirking.
Y/N eyes widened as she looked at the figure more carefully, taking in his words. This couldn't be who she thought it was, right? Testing out her theory she reached up to his hand and taking hold of it. Calluses ran inside of his palm as she trailed her eyes towards his bulky biceps and looked into his eyes once again. The green is more vibrant but there's no doubt on who this person was.
"Raphael?" She whispered as her eyes focused in the darkness and more of his figure became apparent. He looks just the same as ever, but his skin was darker than usual. It could be the lighting, but his eyes don't usually glow in the dark like this. "What's happened to you? Why aren't you with your brothers?"
Raphael snickered as he stood one foot to the other. "It's a long story, babe. But, right now," He smirked as he leaned in towards you, his lips barely brushing up against yours. "I want to have a taste of you."
With that she gasped as black mist like tentacles started to form and slowly eased towards her. "W-What is this?"
"A witch did this to me." He gruffed as he crossed his arms, making his arms and shoulders more broad. "Turned me into an incubus and now I want to have every single ounce of you, baby. Every cry, scream, moan and whimper you make will be mine. Every inch of your body belongs to me. I wanna hear you scream out my name when you come on my cock. To feel your insides squeeze me and fill you to the brim." His eyes sparked when he saw your breathing pick up speed. "How does that sound, babe?"
Oh. Good. Heavens.
Never in her life had she heard her boyfriend talk this much filth. He has talked dirty to her before, but this went above and beyond. She let out a whimper as she was affected by his words and the tentacles slowly wrapped around her legs. Only wearing pajama top and shorts she screeched as she was suddenly yanked above the floor, arms above her head and legs spread. Raphael growled deep within his throat as he took in this delicious sight.
"You like that, don't ya?" His voice became an octave deeper as he trailed his finger tips from her ankles to her calves. "To be manhandled by a mutant turtle-"
"Who's also my boyfriend, so you better watch what you say." Y/N snapped. She can't stand it when he downgrades himself. Raphael's perfect in every way. Yes, he has flaws but so does everyone on this earth. "You know I can't stand it when you downgrade yourself, Raphie."
His eyes widened but soon softened. "I don't deserve you, baby doll. I-I'm a hothead, stubborn and a freak! How can a beautiful woman date someone like me?"
"Raphael, look at me," It took a while but he did. Emerald eyes stared at her and she smiled gently. "I don't want anyone else, baby. Nobody can love me like you can, or touch me like you. And nobody will ever understand me like you can. You're always there for me when I need you. I choose you because I love all of you, Raphael. Flaws and all, and you love me just the same. We're in this together and I'm not leaving. I will tell you again and again if I had to. I love you, Raphael."
The red clad turtle bit his lip as tears welled up in his eyes. Yes he's loved by his brothers and father, but something feels different knowing there's someone else besides family who has confessed their love to you.
"You may be hot headed, but you're my big softy. My big teddy bear when I need to cuddle and cry on." He chuckled as memories came to his mind. He's definitely a teddy bear, the only time he will ever admit it was in private. He would never hear the end of it when his brothers were around.
He leaned towards her and kissed her forehead, cheeks, nose. Anywhere on her face he would kiss, making the woman squeal in delight. "I love you more, babe. So much more than you will ever know." He's not good with words but he's a man of action and Raphael's a man on a mission. "But I do have something to tell ya though."
When Y/N tilted her head to the side, the man chuckled. "You're wearing too much."
A gasp escaped her as Raphael used his sias and cut off her clothes without a scratch on her. Her scent more apparent, he inhaled as a deep groan rumbled from within his chest. "Gods, you smell good."
"Raphie, please."
"Call me Daddy."
Oh, goodness gracious. That was hot!
A moan rumbled from her throat as the tentacles slowly made its way towards her breasts and tweaked them. She tried to close her legs but couldn't as the mist held them in their place. Raph smirked as one tentacle slithered towards her sex and rubbed her clit, the other teasing her entrance.
"This is definitely a sight to see." And with that he leaned against the wall, enjoying the show as his baby doll was being used. He shifted his legs as he felt uncomfortable in his pants. Gosh how he wants to rip them off, but not right now.
He wants to see Y/N quivering in ecstasy.
"If you're good, I'll let you play with my sias." He chuckled as he twirled his weapon in his hand. "Or, better yet, I'll let ya play with cock."
Y/N moaned out as the tentacle sunk deep within her. Two playing with her nipples, one teasing her clit and the other slowly yet torturously going in and out from her sex. And it's not his size. She wanted him badly. "D-Daddy, please. I need you!"
"If you're still talking, my friends aren't doin' ya right. Pick up the pace boys." Raph commanded as your screams echoed throughout the bedroom. Wet sounds emitted from your core and you can't help but to clench as your orgasm was coming closer with every thrust.
"That's it, baby. You're doing so good for Daddy." He praised as he bit his lip as he watched you reach your climax. "You can handle another, right?"
He didn't give her enough time to reply when she felt another tentacle reach her back end, it's slick enough as it teased her rim.
"Come on, baby. Give me another." After he said that, she came again. Just being overstimulated like this was driving her mad. "That's my girl."
Oh, how she whimpered from the praise.
"What do you want, princess?" Raph asked as he pushed himself from the wall and walked towards her trembling body. She wailed in ecstasy as a tentacle slowly pryes it's way inside her anal canal. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head and both of her holes had been filled.
"Y-You know what I want." She spoke once again and Raph 'tsked'. With that look, she knew that he wasn't done with her.
"You can still speak," He gruffed as he took off his pants. His throbbing cock now free from confinement, taking grasp in his hand and stroking it. Groans left his throat as he touched himself. "Pull her mouth towards me."
With that, the tentacles maneuvered her as she was now faced with his throbbing pendage.
"Let's see how it feels with all three of your holes being used, hm?"
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The pleasure was non-stop. She lost count on how many times she came, but all she knew was that she's been filled to the brim from her sex as Raphael pounded into her like a feral animal. He came in her throat, on her stomach, back and now he's claimed her womb with his essence twice.
She could feel his seed exited from within her and spilled to the floor below them. All she could do was scream and wail, and she was about to lose her voice.
Whenever he tells her to speak and she replies with words, he wasn't having it. Raphael was making sure she cannot speak properly. He wants to do his job right.
The tentacles still working on her breasts and her anal canal, but Raph owned her sex. Claiming it his property.
"You're taking my cock so good, baby doll. Just look at you. Eyes rollin' and everything." He groaned as he continuously thrust into every spot from within her. "Tell me, baby. Who do you belong to?"
All she could do was moan out and he smirked. "That's my good girl. Gosh, I love you so much!"
With that, she came for the final time as he roared from his orgasm. More of his essence spilled from within her and fell to the floor, but none of them cared. They both relinquish the feeling of their bodies joined together at this moment.
With that, he finally pulled away from her as the tentacles slowly left the woman's body and Raphael held her in his arms. "You did so well, baby. I love you so much."
Y/N groaned as she tried to feel her arms but couldn't as her body was made out of jelly. Raphael officially screwed her brains out. When she looked up, his eyes no longer glowing in the darkness and his skin not the darker shade.
He's back to normal.
"Come on, princess. Let's get ya to the bath." Raph carried his woman to the bathroom and started filling up the tub. Water the perfect temperature, he gently placed her down inside. He added some bubbles for her enjoyment. "Let me grab ya some water, okay?"
All she could do was nod tiredly as she watched him walk out of the bathroom. The water was so warm and she could fall asleep.
When Raph came back with water, his eyes melted as he saw her sleeping form. Her head resting on the side as little snores emitted from her lips. He placed the glasses down and rubbed her head, placing a kiss to her forehead.
"Goodnight, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."
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Tags:
@leosgirl82 @exovapor @thelaundrybitch
Here's my Master List!
🔞 REBLOGS ONLY, NO REPOST 🔞
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multicolour-ink · 8 months
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Back at it again with another Mia and Pio Mario fic! This fic was originally planned to be inserted in an updated version of I've Never Left Your Side, but then I realised that it would be much more reliable to just write mini stories set in their own pocket of time ^^
This takes place sometime between the first and second scans of Mia's pregnancy. There is once again implied nsfw. If you are not comfortable with that, maybe skip this one.
Further author's notes under the cut
- - -
The Changes of Now, Brings Us Closer In The Moment
"Mia?", called Pio as he stepped inside the hall.
He already knew that there was no one else in the house. Arthur and Tony were at their jobs, while Pa was out attending bingo with some old friends.
"Here", called Mia from their bedroom.
He knocked once before stepping inside. He found Mia standing in front of the mirror Her hands were gently caressing her exposed bump. She was smiling, but it was faint, and her eyebrows were knitted into a frown.
"Amore?", said Pio cautiously, his heart staring to race a little. "Everything ok?"
Mia turned to regard him.
"Am I doing enough?", she asked quietly.
He was taken aback by the question.
"What do you mean? Mia, are you alright?! Are the babies ok?!"
"Yes yes, they're fine", said Mia, quick to sooth his nerves.
His eyes darted from her face, to her belly, and then back again to her face, and his heart stuttered at the fact that he could see tears glistening in her eyes. He cautiously approached her, holding out his arms, and she fell into them almost immediately.
"Do you want to talk about it?", he spoke softly into her hair.
"Oh Pio", Mia sighed. "I don't know why I'm even fretting over this. I just feel so..."
She stepped back a little and pressed her palms to her eyes.
"I'm just...so overwhelmed. There's so many emotions brewing inside me all at once."
She paused to take a breath, for she was having trouble speaking. She placed a hand on her stomach; it trembled a little, like she felt undeserving of the contact.
"I love them so much", she said. "And I haven't even met them yet."
She laughed at the last part through her choked voice and watery eyes.
"I just want to do everything I can for them. You're working so hard to provide. Marie has been wonderful helping us get stuff. Tony and Arthur are shaping up to be good uncles already. And Pa is so excited! Meanwhile, I'm just sitting here and waiting!"
Pio felt as if he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand seeing her like this. And he wouldn't let her be any longer.
He pulled her closer so that her forehead rested against his. Then he reached down and placed a hand on her belly.
"Oh Mia. I don't think you realise how much you're doing already. You're carrying something so precious. You're doing more than any of us combined."
She smiled at him, but it didn't quite meet her eyes.
"They deserve so much. And here I am complaining. I feel so selfish."
She trailed off after that last word, her lip trembling.
Pio held her tighter.
"You're allowed to feel this way, amore. Despite what you said, I wish I could be here all day with you. I want to be there every moment with you and the babies."
"And you are!", she assured him, brushing a hand through his hair. "Nothing makes me as happy than when you get home and I can tell you what the babies have been up to all day."
He smiled, a profound feeling coming over him.
"You're so full of love, Mia. Always putting others before yourself. I want to remind you that you're deserving of that love back."
He trailed his hand up into her hair, stroking her temple as they stood lost in each other's eyes.
The air was growing warmer and heavier. Something familiar and desperate had come over them both, and they sensed the other's growing anticipation.
He didn't fail to notice the seductive way she pulled herself towards him, her hands gracing his arms and then his back.
"And I you", said Mia. "I'm so thankful that you've stuck with me all this time "
"I'm always here. For the rest of our lives."
Her husband eyed her intensely, and then he made the next move, trailing kisses over her shoulder. Emphasising each one with loving words.
Mia could sense the intense feeling inside her growing all the more. So powerful that she felt it close to shattering.
She let out a breath that she hadn't realised she had been holding, and let him love her.
* * *
She awoke some time later with Pio holding her in a loving embrace, his hand entangled in her hair.
He sensed her waking, and opened his eyes.
"Hello, amore", Mia smiled.
"Hello, mia bella dea", said Pio, kissing her on the lips.
She giggled as he nuzzled her nose. Then she looked at him, suddenly serious.
"You know, we need to be careful. If we keep this up, we'll end up with more babies."
She burst out laughing at the look on his face.
"I'm joking!", she shrieked.
She suddenly stopped laughing when she realised that he wasn't joining in.
She sat up a little, and felt her whole body turn cold at how downcast he looked.
"Pio? Oh Pio I'm sorry! It was just a joke!"
"No no, it's not that", Pio quickly assured her. He looked distracted, like he was trying to work out what to say before it had properly formed.
"Then tell me, amore", Mia coaxed. She laid back down and caressed her fingers through his hair.
"It's just...", Pio swallowed, unsure of himself. He reached up and cupped her face.
"Amore, please do not mishear what I am about to say. We are blessed. So very blessed. And I could not be more happier. We're so lucky. But....I can't help but feel like I have put too much on you so soon."
He watched her brows furrow in confusion before continuing.
"Those things you said earlier, they reminded me...that you wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me. That night, in the other world, all I could think about was loving you more than I ever have in my entire years of living...We've always been careful before, but that night, I didn't stop and think. I just wanted you so bad."
"As did I", Mia stated.
She sat up a little and cupped his face.
"I don't regret that night. I'm just as much responsible. All I care about is that we were in love, and we made something wonderful. And besides, I would do it all over again if I could."
She emphasized her last point by kissing him passionately.
"But even still...", Pio muttered, as they pulled apart. "What about now? How could I act so careless when you're in a vulnerable state?"
"Because we missed each other?", Mio answered cheekily. "Did it feel good at least?"
Well...Yeah!", Pio answered. Mia giggled as he turned red. "But I'm just afraid of making a mistake...What if I hurt you, or the babies?"
"Have you been talking to the guys at work again?", Mia asked, already expecting the answer.
"Well..."
"I'm not vulnerable. If the doctor said it was safe, then it's alright. Although, we'll likely not be able to do this later when I'm much bigger."
"That doesn't matter", Pio said. He gently caressed her bump. "I just want to do all I can for you and the babies. I want to make sure you're happy."
"I am happy", Mia replied warmly.
Pio then pulled her close, and his wife giggled again when he nuzzled her nose and kissed all over her face with ravish affection.
But just before anything else could go further, they heard a noise beyond the door.
"Oi, Pio, you in there bro?", came Arthur's voice.
"Oh no!", Pio groaned as he tried to burrow under the covers, as if hoping that would make him less conspicuous.
"Best go and pacify them", Mia chortled as she petted his hair.
With another groan, Pio peeled himself from the bed and, after getting himself decently dressed, pulled open the door and then closed it behind him before his brothers could look in.
"Would you two not make so much noise?", he huffed. "Mia is resting."
"Well", Tony chuckled. His eyes passed over his brother's dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks. "Judging by your state of appearance I would say she definitely needs a well earned sleep."
Pio went even redder as his younger brother hollered with laughter.
"Hey bro leave it", said Arthur, nudging Tony in the ribs. "They're adults after all."
"Yeah but...when she's pregnant?"
"Ain't nothing wrong with a man showing his partner some love. No matter when."
"Just because Marie keeps talking about having a kid with you, doesn't mean you need to share all the details with me!"
Now Arthur was the one to go red this time, and shoved his brother with such force he nearly toppled him over.
"Anyway", Tony managed to wheeze through his laughter. "I'm honestly really happy for you both. But just try to keep your pastimes to a relaxed degree. We don't want a dozen bambino around the house!"
Pio groaned and leaned his head against the wall exasperatedly, as he listened to Arthur chastising Tony down the hallway, and Mia giggling from the bed.
AUTHORS NOTES
Finally done! Not gonna lie, this one was challenging to do. I wanted to make sure I stuck true to realism, but I also had to stick to the characterisation of Pio and Mia, and their relationship. The challenge was, that I didn't want either of them to say or do anything that was immoral, or could be taken as problematic. That may just be my anxiety and just having to leave this for so long and do bits in between. I feel like that may have impacted the writing a bit compared to my previous works.
Please don't misinterpret Pio's words in this. He cares very deeply for his wife and doesn't want to make mistakes or somehow step out of line. He wants to make sure she is safe and happy. Any actions from his own desires and emotions, I feel like he would feel guilty about, like he needs to be a firm wall that doesn't give in. He wants to put his wife before anything, and though he trusts her, he has to be reminded that they are a united couple and they are human with emotions and desires.
I really enjoy writing these romantic fics with these two, and I am more than open to constructive criticism. This is all really practise for myself and I really want to get better at it!
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princessphilly · 6 months
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Soooo
My 40th Birthday is coming soon!!!!
So I decided I wanted to celebrate in a big way! Thus, a lyric blurb challenge.
So there are two ways to do this:
1. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and ask me to write or
2. Pick out a song lyric and fandom and write it yourself and post it!
Eep: edited to add, Please send me an ask with the lyric, fandom, and if you want me to write it or if you’re going to write it.
Please post anything related to this with #princesspbdaychallenge because I will be following that tag
Open fandoms: TGM, hockey (Sidney Crosby, Nate Mac, Jamie Oleksiak, Brandon Tanev, ask me about others), Marvel, CE characters, Seb Stan characters, Henry Cavill characters.
Tagging: @spine-buster @chara-hugs @starshine-hockey-girl @buckets-and-trees @biteofcherry @vonalyn @angryschnauzer @persephonepraxidikechthonios @hangmanapologist @hangmanssunnies @withahappyrefrain @yanna-banana @callsignspark @kreiderrider @gretagerwigsmuse @fineanddandy @syntheticavenger @sunshinexsin @navybrat817 @ginghampearlsnsweettea @himbos-on-ice @hiimana @whoeverineedtobe @hockeynshit @2-fast-2-curious @jobean12-blog @thebookofmags @fenixstar
Click to see lyric prompts:
Love
There is an indentation in the shape of you
Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo
Taylor Swift - Dress
Baby, won't you be my sweetheart
We could share a storybook romance
Mariah Carey - Sweetheart
How do you do it?
Make me feel like I do
How do you do it?
It's better than I ever knew
Incubus - Stellar
Forever my lady
I say just what i mean
Forever and ever
I pray is what i see
Jodeci - Forever My Lady
Walks by me every day
Her and love are the same
The woman that's stolen my heart
And beauty is her name
Dru Hill - Beauty 
When I trust you we'll make love until the morning
Let me tell you all my secrets and I'll whisper 'til the day's done
Fka Twigs - Lights On
Cupid doesn't lie
But you won't know unless you give it a try
Oh baby, true love
won't lie but we won't know unless we give it a try
give it a try
112 - Cupid
At night, I think of you
I want, to be your lady, maybe
Ghost Town DJ’s - My Boo
I don't ask for too many things
Only one thing I really need
That is you baby next to me
Mary J Blige - Give Me You
I wanna be the one who you believe
In your heart is sent from (sent from heaven)
Keyshia Cole - Heaven Sent
Angst
Tell me how does it feel
When your heart grows cold? 
New Order - Blue Monday
Talk to the wind, talk to the sky
Talk to the man with the reasons why
And let me know what you find
Taylor Swift - Come In With The Rain
You can never win or lose
If you don't run the race
The Psychedelic Furs - Love My Way
I didn't know nothing, I was stupid, I was foolish
I was lying to myself
Mariah Carey - We Belong Together
There's something kinda sad about
The way that things have come to be.
Desensitized to everything.
What became of subtlety?
Tool - Stinkfist
(Do I wanna know?)
If this feeling flows both ways?
(Sad to see you go)
Was sort of hoping that you'd stay
Arctic Monkeys - Do I Wanna Know?
Collect the bad habits that you couldn't bear to keep
Fall Out Boy - I'm Like A Lawyer With The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off (Me & You)
The sun goes down
I feel the light betray me
Linkin Park - Papercut
See the stone set in your eyes
See the thorn twist in your side
I'll wait for you
U2 - With Or Without You
I come home early expecting your warm embrace
But something is wrong 'cuz its written all over your face
Dru Hill - In My Bed
Platonic
Like a shoebox of photographs
With sepia-toned loving
Jack Johnson -  Better Together
Yea, I've been workin' all week
And I'm tired and I don't wanna sleep
I wanna have fun
It's time for a good time
Alan Jackson - Good Time
Come on, baby, let's get away
Let's save our troubles for another day
Come go with me we've got it made
Let me take you on an escapade
Janet Jackson - Escapade
The grabbing hands grab all they can
All for themselves, after all
(It's a competitive world)
(Everything counts in large amounts)
Depeche Mode - Everything Counts
Wear the grudge like a crown. Desperate to control.
Unable to forgive. And sinking deeper.
Tool - The Grudge
And on I read until the day was gone
And I sat in regret of all the things I've done
For all that I've blessed, and all that I've wronged
In dreams until my death I will wander on
Audioslave - Like A Stone
It's so unreal, didn't look out below
Watch the time go right out the window
Linkin Park - In The End
And so we're told this is the golden age
And gold is the reason for the wars we wage
U2 - New Year’s Day
And the crashes are heaven for a sinner like me
But the arms of the ocean delivered me
Florence and the Machine - Never Let Me Go
And all I dreamed of, it can't get started
Time goes really slow and I need to let it out
Kelela - Bankhead
Smutty
We go deep and we don't get no sleep
'Cause we'll be up all night until the early light
Janet Jackson - Go Deep
I'm hanging on your words
Living on your breath
Feeling with your skin
Will I always be here?
Depeche Mode - In Your Room
You'd be calling out my name
Begging me to play my games
Depeche Mode - Corrupt
Fetish is a pleasure you cannot be faked, woho hoho
But when it feels this good then it just comes natural
Baby, arch your back and point your toes
Miguel - Arch & Point
I'm your pimp, I'm your pope, I'm your pastor babe
Confess your sins to me while you masturbate
Miguel - the valley
I got plans to put my hands in places
I never seen, girl, you know what I mean
Usher - Nice & Slow
Turned on by everything you say
I'm turned on by everything you do
Jodeci - Freek'n You
No rules to this game
Turn me out
Now I'm helpless
And I beg you
Do it again
Kelela - Do It Again
Grab hold of me
Gentle love but touch passionately
I'll give you my blessing
Take me person and objectively
Ex and internally
Sabrina Claudio
Give it to me like you need it, baby
Want you to hear me screaming, heavy breathing
Summer Walker - Girls Need Love
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pettydollie · 3 months
Text
ᴄᴏʟᴏɢɴᴇ - ᴅᴀʏʟɪɢʜᴛ ᴘ2
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summary: yn deals with the trauma from her toxic ex boyf in a negative way, falling into unhealthy habits. she meets chris at a cafe she works at but has trouble admitting her liking to him, but its even harder when her best friend hates him. warnings/notes: fem!reader, lowercase intended, cursing, reader is in a bad mental state, toxic!bf, dirty thoughts, mentions of sex (no smut tho), bodyshaming, this entire chapter is a flashback wc: 1.1k
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you were practically begging for praise, eugh.
"am i good enough?" you asked your boyfriend one night after you jacked him off and then refused to sleep with him. you sat on your bed in a tank top and tiny shorts while he was almost fully naked, only just putting his boxers back on. he turned his gaze to you, raising a brow. he scoffed. "yeah, you did fine."
you wanted to roll your eyes. "that's not what i meant." you swallowed hard, hoping he doesn't think you're an attention seeker. he didn't respond, he just walked over and kissed your neck. "i'm going home."
you pull back from his pecks, nodding your head. you wished he wouldn't go so quick. he was always rushing to leave. you miss being able smell his cologne whenever you two were together; now it's a faint memory. he threw the rest of his clothes on, grabbing his phone when he was finished.
he gave you a peck on the lips before walking to the door. "call me in an hour!" you exclaim. you heard an "uh huh" as the door shut. he wasn't going to call. he probably wasn't even going home. you don't think he's cheating, but you know he's probably going out to a party of some sort.
you wanted to be seductive and give him more than what you did, but you couldn't bring yourself to. you don't think you're that attractive, so you should be thankful someone like him is with you. you rub your wrists that are numb and tired from all the work you did.
and he gave you nothing.
you hate this feeling. the on and off feeling, not knowing if your emotions are even valid. he never put on cologne any more to impress you. he smells gross, but you don't ever mention it.
almost two hours later, you're sitting on your sink in the bathroom, staring at yourself in the mirror. last week your boyfriend told you that you're gaining weight. at the time, you foolishly agreed even though you thought you were okay.
but now, when you're staring into your reflection, really admiring yourself, you decide he's wrong. you're.. pretty. gorgeous even. then you get a disgusting feeling in your stomach. you hate the way he's been treating you. honestly, what were you thinking?
you grab your phone and call him. he doesn't answer. you call again. and again. you scoff, "drop your shit and pick up the phone." you snarl, wishing that for once he'd give you the attention you craved. you hop off the sink, your heart beating. you slip on your mary janes and anxiously swing the door open, not really knowing where you're gonna go.
but your trip out quickly comes to an end when you see olivia standing there, her eyes wide in surprise. "oh.. hi!" she greets, giggling at the coincidence. "were you going out?" she asks. you shake your head, stepping aside to let her inside.
you two lay down on your bed, light music playing in the background. you bring a bowl of strawberries, plopping down next to her as she pulls one out from the bowl. the wind from your open window blows into the room, causing chills on yours and her skin. you giggle at the goosebumps, rubbing her arm up and down to make them go away.
she clears her throat, looking a little shy, asking you've been. you sigh and begin to explain your thought process about your boyfriend.
olivia's pov:
"ugh, what is wrong with him? girl, don't listen to him, you're beautiful." i grimace after she explains what he told her. i wish she'd just dump him already, he's no good for her.
she smiles at my compliment, making me happy. "aw, thank you livvy." she pauses her story, grabbing a strawberry. i watch as her mouth wraps around the fruit, the juice coating her sweet lips. some of the liquid dripped off her mouth, falling into the valley of her somewhat exposed breasts. i suck in a breath.
"oops." she grins sheepishly, wiping it away with her hand. she goes back to the details, "and when i jerked him off today, he didn't even ask me if i wanted anything. like, helloo?? i just felt really bad. i didn't want anything anyways, but he still could've asked, y'know?"
an idea popped into my head. my face goes red at the nasty thought. it was terrible, really. thinking of doing something with my best friend. i guess she noticed though, she asked me if i was okay right after. "uhh yeah." i respond, scratching the back of my head. "just- question. and you totally don't have to answer" i clarify with a straight face
she nods, smiling. i feel butterflies from her sweet demeanor. no one deserves her. "so, uh.. are you a virgin?" i ask hesitantly, not wanting her to be offended. but she isn't. of course she isn't insulted, she's perfect.
"mhm." she sighs, playing with the leaves of her leftover berry. "well.. i could teach you a thing or two if you want?" i blurt out without thinking. oh shit she's gonna hate me. FUCKK! "but you're a girl" she grins obviously, raising a brow. i embarrassingly stutter in reply, "y-yeah, but i've had sex with boys before, so i know what they like." good save.
she thinks for a second. "hm, okay!" she starts pulling off her pants. OH. i wasn't expecting that.
it was great, as expected. but i dont know if i can handle keeping my feelings inside now after that. if anything, it just made me want her more. fuck.
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you waved olivia goodbye, shutting the door behind her. wow. you just had sex with your best friend. she suggested it though, so it's no biggie. was it good? ehhh. you didn't cum, but she was just showing you what boys like anyways. you exhale, relaxing on your bed. your phone rings all of a sudden.
damn, maybe this isn't so healthy. did you just cheat on your boyfriend? no. nonono, he'd be happy. you're learning for his benefit. yeah, this is fine. it's not gonna happen again anyhow, so it doesn't even really matter anymore.
you shrug off the thoughts. you try imagining what your older brother breyden would say if you told him about this. he'd always been a little different from the other boys at school growing up, so he'd probably say something stupid about being gay. but you haven't talked to him in forever. you sigh. maybe you should go outside and get some fresh air.
but you don't.
you decide to call your boyfriend one last time before bed. this time, he answers. "we have to talk." he says before you could speak.
tags: @leah-loves-lilies @latinasforchrizz @stargirlsturniololover @junnniiieee07
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